Magik: Childhood Memories
by Phantom Illusion
Summary: Time flows constantly from one moment to the next. But just like a river, it does not flow at the same speed. And, just like a river, it flows in one direction only. You cannot change anything. Memories are just that; memories.
1. Illusion of Strength

Hello there! Welcome to my first fic. This one is _mainly_ based on the Anime!Ed, but everything is probably going to be manga-based... _probably..._  
>Disclaimer: I own neither Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter (but if if could own one I'd rather own FMA)<p>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter One – Illusion of Strength<strong>_

_**People cannot gain anything without sacrificing something.**_

_**You must present something of equal value to gain something.**_

_**That is the principle of equivalent exchange in alchemy.**_

_**We believed that was the truth of the world when we were young.**_

_**~Alphonse Elric**_

-Amestris ~ Resembool 1993-

"Oka-san! Oka-san!" A four year old Edward rushed out of the house, transmuted wooden bird clenched firmly in one hand. Trisha Elric, his mother, greeted him with a smile that was glowing with happiness and health as she un-clipped yet another piece of clothing from the line where they had dried. Her smile widened as she recognized him, and noticed a three-year-old Alphonse running on short legs behind him.

"Oka-san! I made you a present!" Edward proudly held the metal creation for inspection as Alphonse caught up.

"Oka-san... I made you one too!" Alphonse panted. "Although mine isn't as detailed as brother's…."

Trisha smiled warmly at her sons, placing the basket with the washed clothes on the ground next to her, bending down to examine the offerings. She smiled at Alphonse -it was typical of him to downplay his work, and pulled her sons into a hug, exclaiming how marvellous she thought the creations were. Her voice had a sincere note about it, and touches of pride. '_They really are _his _children' _ She thought ruefully to herself, leading them in. They were not excessively rich, no, but they were happy. And it was enough.

It was Christmas, and the family spend it outdoors, picnicking near the river with the Rockbells.

Trisha made small talk with Sara and Urey as she watched over her children. All was well.

-England ~ Little Whingling ~ 4th Privet Drive-

"Boy! There is still a speck on those dishes!" Petunia shrieked – not too loudly, it wouldn't do for the neighbours to hear, but loud enough to make Harry cringe and shrink away from her.

Satisfied that she had taught the little brat a lesson; fear worked better than physical injury sometimes, she turned away to resume making breakfast. Shame that people would notice burns if she tried to force cooking and more chores on the freak, really he ought to be grateful for putting up with him during Dudley's critical years of growing up.

"-Two less than last year!" Dudley's voice echoed from within the living room as he cried in outrage.

"But look, some of these are bigger than last yea-" Vernon Dursley's loud booming voice was easily audible to Petunia, despite the closed doors between them. Scowling at Harry, as if it were all somehow his fault, she hastily left to reassure her precious son that they would pick up presents for him on the way to the the zoo.

Harry cringed as the door slammed shut, distantly, he could hear the car drive away. Most parents would have had the thought to bring along a four-year old, but the Dursleys would have preferred to be rid of him. He released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, glad that they were gone.

School hadn't been so great that week. Usually he enjoyed watching the teachers discipline Dudley – his cousin, but this week he had sat next to the girl Dudley liked, and had gotten beaten up, while Dudley was congratulated for 'learning to defend against the scarred freak' by his aunt and uncle. Then when the test scores came back, Aunt Petunia had been furious the he'd passed when Dudley had failed. On top of that, he'd grown some and the under-the-stairs closet was starting to feel cramped.

_'Maybe if I keep doing worse than Dudley, I won't get beaten up again?'_ He thought naively. But then, he was but a child.

Dragging himself back to the amount of gratitude to whatever watching deity that the Dursleys were out. He took a deep breath, and begun on the stack of dishes; he could go on. It would be alright.

-Two Years Later-

Harry winced, leaning against the wall.

_'I can go on. It will be alright.'_

Only that it wasn't. His arm was undoubtedly broken, and it hurt like hell. What was worse was that no matter what Dudley did, he would get only praise, and he wouldn't stop, no matter how hard Harry tried to stay out of his way.

His breath came in ragged gasps, and he shivered against the cold, slumped against the wall, coated in blood. No-one would come, Dudley had made sure to sure to dump him in a secluded corridor. If he was lucky, the cleaner might see him after school. But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wouldn't believe him, not over their precious darling.

A shadow loomed over Harry, and he cringed, expecting nothing but harsh words, and a punch if it was Dudley. The unknown person leaned down, Harry's sight was blurry and couldn't make out the finer details of their face. Then they stood, said something to someone behind them, and he couldn't hang on any longer. Everything went black.

"Oka-san!Oto-san! I think he's waking!" Harry heard a child's voice ring from somewhere near him. It was definitely female, and she sounded nice, not like Dudley and Uncle Vernon's booming voices, nor Petunia's screechy one. Blinking his eyes open, he caught a glimpse of long blond hair and sky-blue eyes. Vaguely, he recognised her to be the girl that Dudley was crushing on, who had caused (however indirectly), him to be beaten in the first place. Distantly, he realised he was lying on something soft, not the moth-eaten mattress he had gotten so used to. The girl beside him – Winry was it, had turned away and was facing the door. Through the wide archway, came strolling a figure dressed in white. A doctor's garb. Harry vaguely recognised the man to be one of the school's on-campus doctors.

The man crossed in swift steps to where Harry lay, gazing up with wide eyes, trying not to cringe. The man frowned slightly and Harry braced himself.

_'Is he mad because I got his sheets dirty? Will he beat me? Has he reported me to the Dursleys? Where am I? Did he... kidnap me...? Is he holding me hostage for money... the Dursleys won't give him the money anyway. They don't care. What's going to happen to me..?'_

Harry unconsciously shifted away from the towering man. Unexpectedly, the man knelt against the bed and reached for Harry's hand. Harry froze, his mind playing scene after horrible scene, there he lived his nightmares. Then the man grasped his hand, checked his pulse and released him. Harry watched with wide eyes as the man begun to talk in his low voice.

"I am Urey Rockbell. Do you remember what happened to you?"

Harry inwardly pulled himself together, deliberately keeping his face blank. It wouldn't make any difference if he said anything. No-one believed him, not Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, nor the teachers since Dudley always had the perfect alibi. He didn't need to be betrayed again. He shook his head, a second too soon.

Urey sighed. It seemed that the poor boy was afraid of getting beaten again. There was nothing that he could do without evidence, frustrating though it was. So as soon as he was sure that he boy was alright again, he drove him back to his house.

Harry profusely thanked the man. Not only had he fixed him up, but had also driven him home and ensured that he could not had been held at fault for being absent, although once he had left Aunt Petunia had punished him for not doing the dishes, he had been forced back into his closet under the stairs, but he was used to the cramped space by now. Still, he could have sworn that his arm had been broken...

"Urey... that boy..." It was dinnertime for the Rockbells, and Sara was intent on changing the topic back to Harry. "It is obvious that he is suffering under their care. If it were someone else who meant much to us.." She trailed off, thinking how Winry might have fared under those same circumstances.

"It's frustrating, I know, but it is beyond us to do anything just yet." Urey Rockbell replied to his wife, as her eyes narrowed ever so slightly and become tormented, he could see her trying to find some way to save the youth he had brought home for treatment. But they could do nothing but watch and wait for a suitable opportunity. And he hated it.


	2. Watch And Wait

EDIT: Re-upload. So I was moving this fic to another word processor.. and noticed I had an unfinished sentence at the start (silly me xP). Nothing else changed. Just as a note, 'Tōka Kōkan' means 'equivalent exchange'

Hello again *smile*

Hehe I already had some of this written up before, but figured that I'd wait for feedback before uploading.

Thank yous to TheBlackSeaReaper, Fluehatraya and DeathBySugarCube for reviewing =) I'm glad you like it.

Oh! _Italics _for emphasis, or spells. _Italics in 'quote mark things' for thoughts._

Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – Watch and Wait<strong>

_**Be Thou For The People**_

_**~Unofficial Creed of The Alchemists**_

It had been a week since the Rockbells had decided to take special notice of Harry Potter. Despite the amount of time, there was still no change in the treatment of the boy, nor any further incrimminating proof, or the discovery of any others who suspected his mistreatment. 

Urey Rockbell ground his teeth together in frustration. Even a blind person would be able to tell that Harry Potter was being abused by his relatives, suffering from mental trauma and living in fear and distress. So why was it that out of the whole school, only he, Sara and Winry could see it. 'Because they're idiots' was the answer that came to mind, 'because they've been tricked by the Dursleys' was the rational answer that wasn't recalled.

Urey nodded absently to a teacher who had asked him something he hadn't heard. Though he had to suffer seeing the children push each other around (and be around those idiotic teachers) this way, information was much easier to obtain. Tōka Kōkan, as Edward might say.

"Harry! Let's have lunch together!" Winry's voice carried up to the infirmary and her father smiled. Winry was a good kid, if blunt at times. But as long as she was around, she could protect Harry from his blundering fat slob of a cousin. She took after her mother, kind, but she wouldn't take any nonsense, not without giving you a lump with her wrench. He smiled again, wryly this time. Perhaps giving Winry the Deluxe Wrench Set had been a mistake, but she seemed to have grown quite fond of it. Edward had been outraged, but then he'd suffered multiple hits to the head. Feeling his thoughts turn to the two brothers, he allowed his eyes to focus on random objects throughout the room. Edward, Alphonse, Winry. He wondered who it was that would end up proposing to his little girl. It didn't matter, only time would tell, and he had to be sure that he lived long enough to see the wedding.

That day, as Harry left for home, he found Dudley waiting outside the school gates, a nasty grin on his face.

"Think you could steal the girl away from me, freak?" Dudley punched him, breaking the glasses for the umpteenth time that week. This time, the tape wasn't able to hold the pieces together and the lenses shattered cutting through the delicate skin on his face.

Sara Rockbell frowned at the sound. Where there still students around? It had been the sound of glass cracking, but faint, it hadn't been a window that shattered.

_'Something small, not a bowl – they're louder than that, this is... contacts or glasses. Maybe someone's fist hitting something.'  
><em>

_There was only one person she knew _with glasses who had any chance of getting roughed up. Hastily packing away the medical equipments into the cupboard nearby, she reached for her cell. Maybe Urey was better positioned to deal with this.

The ringing of a cell phone made Urey's hand twitch slightly as he fixed a boy's sling. Just like Harry, the boy had been adamant about not telling who had beaten him up, insisting that he 'fell over' when he had a broken arm, and bruises all over his body, except suspiciously where the skin was not covered by the uniform. Maybe Dudley had more intelligence than they'd given him credit for?

The mobile rang again, insistently. Urey pinned the sling in place with the efficiency of one who had had years of practice with one had, answering the phone with his other.

"Hello. Urey Rockbell speaking, how may I help you?"

"Urey could you check the back gate of the school... I have a suspicion that Harry..." Sara (he could tell by her voice), trailed off, probably thinking of all the bad possibilities that could have happened by now.

"I got it, Sara." Urey glanced around for the boy, only to find him mission, most likely having crept off before being questioned again. He sighed and left. Children these days.

Unfortunately for Harry, there had been enough time between Sara hearing, calling, Urey picking up and arriving at the site for Dudley to re-break Harry's arm, give him a bloodied nose and a black eye and run off home. This time there was no wall to slump against, and the concrete path was stained red with his blood. All in all, it wasn't a pretty sight. Pain and nausea registered in Harry's head, conflicting with each other, he couldn't take it anymore, his eyes closed as he lost consciousness, lying in a pool on the sidewalk.

This was the image Urey saw as he swiftly strolled out the school's gate. Restraining himself from going after the bully (just barely), he snapped his head around. Nothing. No-one. Good.

Both Sara and Urey had sworn off magic years ago when they'd moved to Risembool – the military would have loved to get their hands on a new weapon, and hadn't used it since. Until now.

Essence of Dittany would help the cuts, and a blood replenishing potion would be able to replenish the lost blood. Broken bones he could fix in an instant. But there remained the psychological damage to be dealt with. He sighed. There was no alternative, Harry Potter would be sent to St. Mungo's, and the Dursleys issued a court martial (or what ever this world's equivalent was called), it made no difference what it was called.

Performing one last check for muggles, he pulled out his wand, and bandaged up the unconscious boy.

"_Ferula._" A mass of pure white bandages appeared, wrapping themselves firmly against Harry. Urey watched, hidden fires burning in his eyes, casting an appraising eye over his work. As a doctor, he knew the importance of staying by the wounded, as a person the thing he wished for most would probably be to chase down the ones that had done , he cleaned the pavement with a swish of his wand, all the while watching the bandages carefully. He did not revive the boy, figuring it kinder to leave him in a state where, for once, he need not feel pain or humiliation.

"_Expecto Patronum_" a brilliant silver-lined hound burst from the tip of Urey's wand, leaping over the gate as if it were real. Once on the other side, it turned back, flipped a ear at them, and bounded off. It never looked back.

Urey sent a sad, nostalgic glance towards the hound before grasping Harry's hand firmly. With a slight _pop_, they disapparated, landing amidst a crowd of white-robed wizards and witches. The Healers of St. Mungo.

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><p>No more assignments (Yay!) I'll probably have the next chapter out before the holidays (That's about a week from now so expect it before the 24th~)<p> 


	3. For The People

Thanks to those who reviewed!

Disclaimer: (Well I personally feel that if you missed it twice before you'll probably miss it again now...) But I don't own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist... unfortunately...**  
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><p><strong>Chapter Three – For The People<strong>

_**There's no such thing as 'Professional' and 'Private'**_

_**~Colonel Roy Mustang**_

The mediwitches and wizards momentarily halted, started by the abrupt appearance of the two. It was the site of Harry, blood staining through the bandages that stirred them into action again. Almost instantaneously, a stretcher was summoned, more bandages prepared, potions fetched and a team of Healers surrounded the boy, trying to assess the damage. While St. Mungo had no floor for bullied kids, the healers were able to agree, once upon seeing the wounds, that they had been inflicted by a muggle and so prepared a ward on the first floor. That is, 'Creature-induced Injuries'.

Urey was shoved carelessly to one side by the healers as they worked complex spells, floated the boy up to his new room, and poured what seemed to be a stingy amount of potion on to him. Still, he could not fault them; the wounds were not as bad as some of the others he had seen in St. Mungo's before and there was no _real_ reason to use generous amounts of expensive products when a small amount would be alright. Thankfully, as a doctor himself, he wasn't offended understanding that the patients came first. Still... he did wonder what the casualty rate was for those bringing in the patients were.

The silver hound leapt gracefully through the open window, as if it were a divine messenger. Winry squealed at the unusual sight, before running to attempt to hug it. As if realising something, the hound suddenly sped forward, through the girl who jumped back, eyes wide with shock, and up the flights of stairs.

Sara Rockbell, glanced towards the staircase, hearing Winry's squeal. It was unlikely that she was in trouble, but not entirely impossible. She put away the bandages and closed the cupboard, she was just about done here anyway. As she descended the stairs, a silver light shone gently before her. She recognised the form immediately. A Patronus. Winry was running behind it, seeming on intent on catching it. Sara knelt before it and the dog's mouth opened, and a voice spoke through it. Her husband's voice.

"Harry injured. Gone to St. Mungo's." The message was short, but clear. Sara Rockbell reached for her daughter's hand, grasping it in a vice-like grip. It was time to return to Amestris. She was glad really, this world was unpredictable and dangerous. Even through Amestris was intent on fighting multiple wars at all times, the goals of the country were, at least, clear and the non-military people mostly kind. With distaste, she recalled the fat slob who had called himself Harry's cousin, from the moment she'd seen him, she'd kept a reminder in the back of her head to keep Winry away from him.

"Mommy?" Winry attempted to move her hand away from the painful grip it was trapped in. Sara's heart grew worried for her only child. She was still so childish, still so naïve. How would she fare after they had passed away?

Winry pulled again and Sara immediately slackened her grip, guilt clawing at her heart. Had she been too focused on her patients, ignoring her child in their favour? She made a mental note to spend more time with Winry once they got back to Resembool.

Harry stood in the middle of a small twister, a flurry of bright lime-green leaves whirling about him in an almost rhythmical fashion. He closed his eyes.

"_Hey freak!" That was Dudley, again insulting him._

_He didn't reply, though he felt the anger bottle up inside him ready to spill forth. Dudley, if he sensed it, didn't care; he shoved his skinnier cousin into the mud puddle at his feet. Scrapes from the blows that Dudley had dealt him before oozed blood slowly, mixing with the murky water, staining both the water, and his clothes a shade of a colour somewhere between crimson and maroon. His hair was drenched in those colours too, and the glasses had fallen off, undoubtedly laying broken somewhere on the bottom. Vaguely, he was aware of Dudley taunting him, but it had no meaning to him._

_Something inside him had snapped then. His eyes had narrowed slightly and he pushed himself upright._ Had his _cousin enough wit, he might've noticed the warning signs that were very much there. Gusts of wind, as if drawn to the boys, swept around Harry, encircling him in a protective cocoon, then billowed out, screeching in his cousin's ears, tearing at his skin, throwing leaves and blow-about trash at him. But there was something terribly wrong._

_Harry stood there, watching, but it was as though seeing a movie (not that he'd had much opportunity to see one); that it was his cousin getting thrashed for once meant nothing to him. Rather, he _wanted _to see Dudley get hurt, scream, plea for mercy. Suffer as he had._

_'He's treated you like trash. Why not give him that same treatment?' There was a voice inside his head, high-pitched, cold and calculating. It was like something out of a nightmare._

_Dreamlike, he felt himself moving forwards, the winds picking up, Dudley screaming something incoherent. He felt the voice's intent too, knew the means to make it happen, knew the voice could give him the will to make it happen. It could be so easy. And yet... he couldn't do it. There was just something about it that disgusted him. Maybe it was that, regardless of all he had done, Dudley was still a human. Maybe it had been that deep down, he was too scared. Or maybe it had been that the voice had felt unnatural, wrong. Or perhaps, it was just him, lacking the will to do it. But whatever the cause, he'd felt physically unable to do it._

_So he'd just frozen up, unable to stop the winds, unable to continue. What had been a blessing was now a curse. Then Dudley had jerked, screeching, staring in fascinated horror at something behind him. He hadn't turned, despite being easily able to, fear of what he might see locking his muscles in place._

_'Help... help me! Someone... anyone? Help me…'_

_And even though he's been the one with the most power (theoretically), he'd also felt at his most helpless. And so he'd stood there, frozen in place, feeling stupid, ashamed at his weakness. And he couldn't do _anything.

_Then skinny, bony arms had wrapped themselves around his torso, protectively as if he was the one they were trying to protect. And it had almost been like... having a _mother_._

"He's awake. Look, the movement in his eyelids give it away."

Jolted none-too-gently back to reality, he opened his eyes, to an even blurrier image than the one he'd been presented with before. What he'd taken to be leaves appeared to be people dressed in the most eye-catching garb he'd ever seen. A slightly sickening shade of bright lime-green.

One of them cooed at him, and he gave an involuntary flinch. Another pointed a stick (?) at him, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'loo moths'. He blinked confusedly for a second, then flinched for the second time in less than ten seconds as she shone the light directly into his eyes.

Apparently satisfied with whatever knowledge had been gleaned, she pulled back the odd stick and muttered something again, though this time it sounded similar to 'pox'. Harry wondered if the strange man was not quite right in the head.

Losing interest, as the two began to argue over something, he felt his eyes flutter shut and was, for the slightest amount of time, aware of a feeling of drifting before his mind went blank.

When he once again opened his eyes, he noticed the clarity of vision. He could see everything from the seams on his (admittedly plain but clean), hospital robes to the wisp-like traces of spider webbing in the corners of the room. He sat up, wanted to see more.

Outside, loud voices were arguing, it seemed to be two flustered female voices against an somewhat annoyed (but resigned) male one.

"You changed his _sight?_ Without consent! What kind of Healers are you?"

"Sir! He was not awake, and his eyesight was able to be corrected without danger to him! He will not suffer harm from the event!" The two female voices joined in protest, excuses babbling out.

"It is still very much immor-" The man's voice dropped suddenly and Harry grew uneasy. Places were people openly shouted at each other were never very nice, as he'd learnt.

Footsteps heralded the arrival of another, and the swish of fabric against floor meant it was most likely a woman in a dress. That, much, Harry could deduce. So you can imagine his surprise when a definitely male voice sounded merrily. Almost, like it was _twinkling_.

"Mr. Rockbell, it has been _far_ too long." The footsteps advanced to the open doorway, and he caught his first glance at the strange man.

At first sight, he seemed to be harmless, a grandfather wandering about, but there was something in the eyes, a hidden fire under layers of twinkling deceit, that warned otherwise. Still, he did look a lot like Santa in blue pyjamas.

As he noticed that Harry was conscious the eyes seemed to twinkle (how was he doing that?) even more. He strolled forwards, extending a hand, wrinkled with the passing of countless years. Instinctively reacting to the outstretched hand, Harry shrunk back, pressing himself firmly against the head of the bed, while burying himself under the blankets. The strange man frowned thoughtfully, a crease appearing on his brow. If anything, he seemed puzzled. As if answering an unheard question, he nodded. There was a slight *pop* and the robe vanished, replaced by a flamboyantly cut suit of plum velvet.

"Dumbledore, he is still recovering!" With a flurry of protests, the two women and man who had been arguing swept in, all seeming slightly miffed that they had been brushed off.

Some distant part of Harry's mind noted that they were all wearing dresses, and carrying sticks of varying lengths and design. He wondered if he'd somehow gone back in time without a telephone box.

'_Maybe I'm a hundred years back in time, before Dudley was born! __But it doesn't explain why these people look like street performers.'_

"W-Who are you?" He was stammering, he knew that but it was a nervous habit that had developed over the years. He doubted that he could stop it if he wanted now.

The silver-haired grandfather twinkled at him once again before presenting him. "I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. These two," here he flapped a hand at the healers, "are the ones who have healed you back up after your incident, and this" he gestured towards the only normally dressed person there (had he gone back in time too?), "is Urey Rockbell. You might have seen him around your school, yes? He was the one who brought you here."

Which raised another question in Harry's mind. Where was _here_? He didn't trust the twinkling man (was his name Ibis Bumblebore?); he was being nice, yes, but he was being _too_ nice, and the way he spoke about the others indicated that he clearly thought himself above them. As if he was the puppet master and they puppets in the play. It was the way Dudley acted, just less violent. Even at the age of six, Harry could tell that the man was trying to get something from Harry. '_Is it my relatives' number, so he can call them up and get an reward? It's no good really, __I've gone back in time so they don't exist yet.'_

The man, (Urey Rockbell was it?) made a small sound in his throat, and stepped forward, brushing past the arm the old man had gestured at him with, stepping in front of the headmaster to address Harry. "You most likely know me as one of the school's on-campus doctors. I believe you know my daughter too, Winry Rockbell?"

'_Okay, so he's a doctor, they're meant to be good people, and I know his daughter, so it's probably okay to trust him. And he came back in time with me, so he's the only one I know. Which makes him the only one I can trust._'

Of course, it didn't explain everything. "W-why did you r-rescue m-me?" Inwardly Harry cursed his stutter, using several colourful curses he'd heard from Uncle Vernon over the course of the five years he'd spent there.

A look of half surprise, half shock flittered across the doctor's face. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly strained and carefully worded as if to conceal anger. "I became a doctor to help people. It wouldn't have be right to leave you there." He said it with such conviction, and stated it with such simplicity that it was impossible to refute his claim. Harry found himself trusting the man, and as his eyes closed, he felt himself beginning to nurture the hope of having a future after far too long without one. A world, a time, where people acted not for themselves, but for others would be nice.

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><p>Urg. *Isn't motivated to write chapter four* Good thing I've already got some of it written up... **is poked**... er... *counts* yup... already got... 190 words...? *sweatdrop* Erk... I'll get back to it later...<p>

I could either blame it on laziness or a new anime... How 'bout I blame it on the laziness to write while watching a new anime? xD

Isn't Harry so innocent? And naive? And... er... a tad stupid =P

And I feel that perhaps, somewhere the ages are getting inconsistent, Harry is meant to be six right now...

The next chapter will up... in about a week (hopefully)


	4. Sunset

So I look back at the last chapter, where I said that I'd probably update in a week or so... Then I look at the date now and figure that its probably been a _bit_ more than just a week to put it mildly. And I figure that my only excuse is that throughout all this time, I've probably only spent about a week's time on the computer... which is far too much to be healthy really...

To my reviewers:

Sorry the update took so long! (But seriously, I had writer's block)

Jostanos: Yes, Bumblebore is a senile, deluded old man at times (why didn't he just adopt Harry if he didn't want other people getting their hands on him, lazy old man). I suppose he finds it better to live in an illusioned world than see reality, which would be fine except that Harry's sorta suffering for it. But I don't think Dumbledore's over with manipulating him... not by a long shot...

Fluehatraya: I know right, sometimes I wonder if the wizards still realize that they're every bit as human as the muggles.

DeathBySugarCube, TheBlackSeaReaper: Sorry for the long waiting time! (Well, at least it's up now, right?)

Disclaimer: I own nothing... Except the plotline.. and my laptop... and the article... and... I don't own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four – Sunset<strong>

_**Alchemists live for the people**_

_**~Halling**_

_**(Miner, Innkeeper and Major of Youswell Coal Mine)**_

When Harry awoke, it was with a distinct feeling of Deja-vu, although he was not yet aware of the meaning of the word itself.

_Good sight. White roof. No spider-webs. _Big _room. Lots of space. Soft bed. Loud voices, but outside. No Dudley. Even if things repeat themselves, over and over, it's better than back there._

After all, what was there to miss? Certainly not the dingy old room, if it could be called that, under the stairs, hiding away from Dudley. This was better than working to the bone each day, slaving away for the sake of his uncle and aunt. Better than the disappointed glances his teacher would give him, as he'd score last in every test again, breaking a top-of-the-class record for three tests. Better than the disgusted, almost accusing look his new teacher would shoot him, handing back yet another failed test. Better than watching his classmates get hurried away by loving parents while wondering what had happened to his own. Better than hiding away at the top of the climbing equipment, where Dudley (thank the heavens), was unable to reach, wondering why his Aunt and Uncle seemed unable to treat him with even a little of that affection they so frequently lavished upon Dudley.

Snuggling deeply into the soft bed, he pulled the covers over his head, and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, wishing that he could stop time.

He snuggled down further into the bed, pulled the covers over his head to create a cocoon of warmth and safety and allowed his eyelids to flutter, relishing the quiet he had so sought. As he drifted between the realms of consciousness, a distant part of his mind was dimly aware of voices arguing heated, but muffled by the closed door that separated him from them.

"First sight, now _prying_ into an innocent child's mind?" the voice was low, obviously belonging to a man. To Harry, it sounded vaguely familiar.

"Sir! I think that some of the things this child has gone through have marked him far worse than a simple probe! It was necessary to determine the best treatment!" the flustered voice of a woman joined.

"His relatives have put him through so much worse! They've forc-" a second female voice was abruptly cut off as the man spoke again, his previously loud voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

Harry heard no more, as he burrowed even further into the reached of the blanket, wishing they'd argue somewhere else. Releasing a yawn into the confined space, he felt the moist air warm it up further. Timidly, he poked his head out, back onto the soft pillow. His eyes closed.

Light taps on the marble floor announced the presence of a young woman wearing sensible heels. The sound echoed slightly around the hall, breaking the strained silence.

Long blonde hair kept in neat plaits swung slightly with each purposeful step. Behind her, following shyly yet determinedly, was a little girl, her hair every bit as bright as her mother's. Two sky-blue sets oft eyes turned to regard the silent wizards.

Winry released her mother's hand, running towards her father, a smile breaking out on her face. Urey, bending to fondly ruffle his daughter's hair, looked towards his wife and gave a grave nod.

Sara turned smoothly to the healers, not giving them enough time to compose themselves. "I see that it's been ascertained that the boy is a victim of child abuse, yes? As it seems that his... _relatives_ are unable to give him the proper care necessary for a child his age, the duty to provide him with a home falls to us, who found this, I believe." She kept her language deliberately professional and direct; it was best to hurry through the legal legislation before another, wealthier, wizarding family found that taking the young Boy-Who-Lived into their care would benefit them greatly. She was no fool, and though they had left Wizarding Britain long ago, was very much aware of the fall of the Dark Lord, who's appearance had cause them to move away; raising a half-blood in a land where a unstoppable murderer was killing children with relations to muggles was, certainly, not a wise choice. Of course, sending a wizard child to live with muggles was nearly, very nearly, as bad. Even more so when you considered that aforementioned relatives despised and feared magic; the essence of a wizard itself.

"Indeed, those muggles treated him horribly! A wizard would never treat their offspring in such a wa-" The healers tittered, an obvious attempt to buy time in which to regain their posture.

"Which is why he must be relocated immediately. Unless of course, there are problems with the case of his adoption?" Sara's voice changed from business-like to no-nonsense with a sliver of cold determination and the slightest hint of a threat, although she was aware that, should it come to it, she would be unable to carry out any threats she made.

Urey, sensing the rapidly shifting atmosphere, smiled down at his daughter. "Now, shall we go check up on Harry, Winry?" At her slight nod, he gently nudged her away from the scene.

Inside the room, they were isolated from the sounds outside, courtesy of a muffling charm placed on the doors after the last incident.

"Harry!" Winry rushed to the bedside, and placed a hand on his forehead, something she'd often seen her parents do to their patients. She sighed dramatically as she took her hand off again, and raised the back of it to her own forehead, as if to wipe off sweat. From his position near the door, Urey wondered if they'd perhaps allowed to spend too much time around them as they were treating patients. To his relief, the boy wasn't awake to see his daughter's act.

It was preposterous that anyone in St. Mungo's would have a fever, due to the skill of the somewhat immoral healers who, despite any other grievances Urey might air about them, were exceptionally skilled. Nevertheless, he also crossed the room, placing a hand on Harry's forehead to check his temperature, although it was more habitual than deliberate. Under his hand, he felt the boy begin to stir, and by the time his hand was back by his side, the boy's eyes were slowing blinking themselves open, only to clamp themselves shut as Winry jumped at him an something between a hug and a flying tackle. And though it was inappropriate, considering what the child had been through, and unprofessional besides, Urey couldn't help but wonder what the casualty rate was for patients who had been unwittingly attacked by their over-eager visitors.

-Malfoy Manor-

"Mother!" Draco rushed into the living room, their subscription of the Daily Prophet tucked haphazardly under one arm. Narcissa smiled slightly, not even six and he was already learning to speak in a more formal way, although she'd have to do something about his habit of running around. She turned, the smile still present on her face to he son. It was not, however, her son's face that caught her gaze and held it. It was instead the title of the wizarding newspaper.

_**The Battle for Custody! Harry Potter's New Family Is…**_

_It's new, it's official. Harry Potter is going to be moving in to a new family! Already, relatives have started to claim and prove their relations towards the Boy-Who-Lived, who has recently resurfaced, leaving many to wonder where he has been all these past five years. __Exc__lusive Interviews with Wizenmagot members inside. For more information, turn to page 80._

She tutted, annoyed slightly, why did they newspapers always place the full version of front-page stories on some obscure page in the middle anyway? Flicking to the page within seconds, she was an expert at it by now, she skimmed the article, gathering the important facts. It painted a nice picture. Although there were many families eager to induct the Boy-Who-Lived into their household, few had as strong a blood-relation to the boy as the Malfoys, and those that did could not match the wealth or political ties the Malfoys possessed. The wizards that had found him, were sure to be eager to give the boy off to someone, children would get in the way of someone who was in the healing profession after all. Maybe they'd auction the boy off to whoever gave the highest bid? And the Malfoy name was a respectable one besides, Lucius made sure of that.

As she raised her head to look at the boy before her, the thought that Lucius might have been too dedicated with his work crossed her mind. Had he been more empathetic with his son, Draco might have sent the paper to him. It had only been luck that Draco had thought she might have been interested in Harry Potter's affairs that he'd brought her the article. She'd have to have a word with him about that later. For now, she smiled at her son, and stood to leave for Lucius's study. Another thought crossed her mind, and she turned to praise her son and awarded him the day off, free from study. Only once he'd left did she turn in the direction of the Study. It wouldn't do the alienate their only son and heir after all.

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><p>Loved it? Hated it? Had absolutely no feeling towards it? Leave a review!~ (No really, do leave a review...)<p>

And if you think that Ed is short at the beginning of the 2003 Anime, leave a review! And since we _all_ know and think that he's short, we're all going to leave a review now, aren't we? =)

And for anyone with _way_ too much free time on their hands (and for those that don't have so much), if you can spare just an half-hour of your lives, do check out my other fic too =)

The next chapter probably won't be coming out for a while now, since I've got exams which are next week, which in fact I ought to be studying for _now_... Next update might be in two week. Emphasis on the 'might'.


	5. Dream

A/N: Yay! Exams are over for another year~

Fluehatraya - Thank you for reviewing! (No, seriously, you're an angel for reviewing every chapter)

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters, or the books themselves, only the plotline. (Seriously, if I actually owned the series-es don't you think I'd be there drawing/writing to make it happen in the real thing?)

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><p><strong>Chapter Five – Dream<strong>

"_**You can wake up from dreams. It's not as scary as hell."**_

"_**... … What do you think is beyond a dream?"**_

"_**That's obvious. There's nothing beyond a dream. It just ends.**_

"_**Very good, once you wake up, there is only reality. Dreams are scary because there is an end."**_

_**~ Alice and Nightmare (Heart no Kuni no Alice/Alice in the Country of Hearts)**_

_**(Chapter 3)**_

-St. Mungo's ~ Reception Area-

"Yes, that's right. We may not be related to Mr. Potter, but it is our duty to find him a suitable place to live. There is no reason why he mightn't live with us for a while. Certainly, since we are both experienced with the healing arts, it would be simple to keep him in a positive state of mind and address any problems before they manifest into anything serious."

The reporter nodded furiously as he jotted down notes on parchment. He raised his head to nod gravely at Sara, as she bit back laughter. As he left, gaining many odd looks from the fellow reporters that were swarming St. Mungo's, she wondered if he had been aware that his face and clothes were stained with many ink-drops from his leaking quill. Probably not, she thought, feeling the slightest bit sympathetic for the reporter. He wouldn't be let into Malfoy Manor looking like that, and if the words he'd shouted into the into the fireplace had been any indication, Malfoy Manor was where he was headed next.

-Malfoy Manor-

Lucius tapped his chin with a quill thoughtfully. The gold-edged tip was pleasant and cool to his touch, though the quill itself was no longer necessary, merely a show of wealth now that the self-inking and dictations quills had become available. But the Malfoy name had a reputation to maintain after all, one of nobility and a pure bloodline. At that thought, the elder Malfoy grit his teeth angrily. How _dare _a _mudblood_ reporter intrude upon a Malfoy estate, even going so far as to wear a cheap ink-stained muggle coat while claiming himself a wizard. _Real_ wizards didn't wear muggle clothing, nor were they ever clumsy enough to spill ink on themselves.

On the other hand, the mudblood had been able to provide some interesting information about his opponents in the competition for the custody of Harry Potter. The situation was ideal, really. The discovery of Harry Potter had been from two wizards who had been missing for over a half-decade, already a blow to their credibility. That they had supposedly 'rescued' Harry Potter from his muggles relatives when no other wizard had been able to even discover his place of residence was suspicious to say the least. Best of all, perhaps, was that they were not blood-relatives of the boy, nor did they boast the considerable wealth that the Malfoys did. And already their name were cast in doubt, while the Malfoy reputation was sterling.

Lucius replaced his quill, beckoning his wife and young son in with a finger. They were dressed formally, and so they should have been. It was time to pay a visit to the Wizenmagot. It never hurt to tip the odds in your favour after all.

-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ~ Headmaster's Office-

Albus frowned slightly as he read the paper. Well he'd seen it coming ever since he'd left Harry on the Dursley's doorstep; it was almost impossible to miss the hostile attitude to magic that surrounded the rather dreary Dursley household. It had taken a great deal of threatening and bribery to ensure that they'd keep the boy under their roof, although they'd maintained an actively hostile attitude towards him. Then it had taken a lot of planning to stage fake attacks on Harry Potter and have his muggle relatives seemingly 'protect' him. It had been very good for the overall treatment of muggles worldwide, even the most prejudiced pure-blood families had stopped hexing any muggle or muggleborn they'd happen to run across, if only because they feared accidentally hexing Harry Potter's adoptive muggle family. Even the richest families feared the media. To place your family in public was to bear the gaze of the public. And attacking the adoptive family of the beloved boy-who-lived was one sure way to gain infamy – and a lot of enemies.

Now that the issue of Harry Potter's adoption was again relevant in the Wizarding World, muggles would quickly lose the grudging respect that had been afforded to them over the last few years.

Albus reached for the sweets on his desk, absentmindedly unwrapping one. '_This taste... toffee__'_. He checked the wrapper, and the edges of his mouth twitched slightly as he dropped it in the bin he kept, out of sight, behind his desk. '_It was butterscotch?__'_

He stood, pushing the chair from the desk as he did. Using Harry Potter, and overall-innocent boy (Albus wasn't going to judge him on how many times he'd stolen candy when his cousin wasn't looking), left a bitter taste in his mouth; one that his own candy couldn't wash out. But there were billions of muggles in the world, and only one Harry Potter. With that thought, he grabbed a generous handful of floo power and vanished with a flurry of flames. It was time to see how Harry was doing.

-St. Mungo's ~ First Floor-

Harry sat in his bed, trying to take in the information presented to him. It was an odd thought to think that he might, all these years, have been wanted by other people, might have been loved had the man in the plum-velvet suit not placed him with his relatives. He would have been quite sure that it was all a dream, if it hadn't seemed to be so realistic; the flashing lights, pounding on the door, people shouting out questions _through_ the closed door and the general hubbub downstairs. And if it really was a dream, a very long realistic dream, he wished that he would never wake up.

Orange beams of light trailed in from the windows in the room, illuminating the face of the school doctor before him. In the light of the setting sun, Urey's face seemed older, wearier and the shadows traced the faint lines on his face. Urey turned from Harry, waving a hand in goodbye.

It had already been a full day since they'd delivered Harry to the hospital, taking care of paperwork and arguing with the nurses. By the time morning had come, they had been utterly exhausted, with the exception of Winry who had been sleeping in one of the guest chairs that had been magically expanded to resemble a sofa. However, the rising sun brought with it another dilemma as it revealed thousands of 'polite' reporters who had been considerate enough to wait till dawn in order to give them their 'sleep', but considered sunrise to be an acceptable time to begin interviewing people. He hadn't slept, he thought, for a rough 48 hours, and they'd been quite literally stranded in the hospital, forced to stay by the hordes of reporters, and their own worry for Harry, who was the ultimate goal for the hordes of information-starved wizards.

Urey exited the room with a practised soft tread, designed to relax patients, being doubly sure to bolt and lock the door behind him with both physical and magical methods. One could never be too sure in any case, and the boy-who-lived had his own enemies as well.

He strolled down the halls, his stride long and bearing the confidence gained only through years of expert work, noting the surprising emptiness of the corridor. St. Mungo's, it seemed, hated reporters as much as he himself did. The warding and illusion charms around Harry's room were superb, and it would take much more than a mere reporter to break them. '_Those reporters, it's more crowded than even the halls of Hogwarts before breakfast,_' he thought ruefully,fondly remembering his schooling days.

The Rockbells had been given a room in hospital wing adjacent to Harry's; the rooms near Harry were empty to give a deceptive sense of emptiness for the more persistent reporters. The rooms were close enough to be able to walk from theirs to Harry's within five minutes, or one minute running, yet far enough to give them both a feeling of privacy and peaceful seclusion. What a pity that five minutes walk was five minutes too far away.

-St. Mungo's ~ Floo Network ~ Overflow Fire-

Albus was not surprised that he had been within the realms of the floo network for a while, just under two minutes if his mental clock was accurate, but he was quite annoyed none-the-less. A near two minutes of spinning (though he was rotating slower now), was enough to make most anyone feel sick.

The overflow part of the floo network had been invented during the dark days when Voldemort had still been in power, and most wizarding families preferred to travel by floo or apparation rather than walk. For Hogwarts, where there were anti-apparation wards, most families tried to send their children by floo. It had ended disastrously, the fireplaces unable to handle the sheer number of students, dumping dozens of students in fireplaces meant only for one, or sending them to obscure classrooms and dungeons around the school, not to mention some had been sent to Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. The overflow system only permitted one wizard to appear in a fireplace, slowing time so that the rest spun slowly until the wizard left the fireplace.

Unlike apparation, floo had many obvious flaws, such as two wizards whose paths intersected were likely to crash into each other, sending them both into different floo paths to reappear far from their destination with injuries and, more often than not, sever headaches.

Albus was relieved as he finally stopped spinning, appearing in a fireplace on the reception. He sucked in a shaky breath, fought the urge to throw up his dinner and clambered somewhat awkwardly out of the fireplace. The large congregation of reporters before him was enough to dissuade from asking at the front desk, instead he headed for the stairs. Injuries inflicted by muggles were on the first floor, unless his memory was now utterly failing him. It was past time time that he and young Harry had a little chat.

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><p>On a humorous side note; my spell check picked up 'Malfoy' and suggested 'MalformedMalformation', 'Mollify' (Isn't that similar to 'Molly' now...) and 'Malefic', while 'Lucius' is apparently similar to 'Laciest'. Imagine that, 'Laciest Malformed'! (Poor Malfoy..)

Perhaps even funnier, is that one of our school's 'beloved' *cough*hated*cough* maths teachers had garlic thrown at her by a year seven girl, who told her that she though her to be a vampire. Oddly enough, she was more irked that the girl had 'breeched safety rules' than being accused of being an vampire...

Next update? Probably next Wednesday. I'll try and keep update once a week..


	6. Awaken

Hello there/again~

Hehe, after posting the last chapter (that's chapter five for anyone who's... um.. _really_ not paying attention or *cough* can't count *cough*...), it resulted in the highest views in a day~ (250), that was on the 22 Nov. Yay right? - it's late I'm feeling random it's just going to be something you'll have to deal with... or ignore.

Things have been moving a tad (okay, a lot) too slow for my taste, so I'm considering skipping a year, or even a month or so after Harry's adoption; what really happened can be displayed in flashbacks or something later.

To my reviewers:  
>Jostanos - I think we can all agree that Harry's probably best off with the Rockbells, but wizarding money speaks louder than... nice-ness? Well the wizards are hugely influenced by money and fame; let's face it if Neville had been the kid in the prophecy no-one would care or know about Harry (and he'd probably be better off too...)<p>

Fluehatraya - Is it going to pick up steam soon... *hums* depends on the reviews for this chapter I guess... But once Harry's with the... *inserts something hidden here =) * the real main plot will really start (this part's more the intro than anything else, a pretty long intro...). Also, poor you, I know I'd hate to be called a vampire.

Another note on the spell-check; You know Bluebird's Illusion, the fan-made game for FMA, and the picture where Ed's dressed up in a dress and everything... 'Laciest Malfoy/Malformed', it somehow reminds me of a cartoon-y Lucius in a really frilly dress, one matching Ed's.

Disclaimer: I don't own either Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter, although I wish I did.

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><p><strong>Chapter Six – Awaken<strong>

_**Power sleeps within you.**_

_**If you give it form...**_

_**It will give you strength.**_

_**~ Kingdom Hearts**_

-England ~ Little Whingling ~ 4th Privet Drive-

Vernon Dursley was _not_ having a good day, or even a good week for that matter. Twice that week, he'd come home today to find dirty dishes in the sink, and no mug of steaming coffee waiting, the Potter brat being absent both times. However, today was exceptionally bad; not only had it taken him exactly forty-three minutes and fifty-eight seconds longer to arrive home than usual (time is money, and promotions for that matter as well), but Dudley had been waiting at the table, fingering the tablecloth which was completely absent of food while munching on cold pork, liberated from the fridge. Obviously Petunia hadn't started making the meal yet, and most likely didn't plan to until the dishes were washed up.

Vernon snarled at the memory, attempting to twist his body out of the restraints. It was all the fault of the Potter brat. Had he been home at his usual hour, always a half-hour later than Dudley, the slacker, none of this would have happened. Petunia would not be bound next to him, staring up at their captors with wide, frightened eyes and uttering short high squeaks every now and then, nor would Dudders be tied cruelly, the thick rope biting harshly into his adorably chubby sides. Vernon couldn't understand it; what had his beloved son, wife and self ever done to anyone to deserve this kind of treatment? Dudders was ruddy innocent! No, he was quite sure that it was all the fault of the painfully scrawny and awkwardly stuttering boy who was mysteriously absent, although Vernon was sure that, even if he had been present, it would still be his fault.

'_That stupid brat. We were kind enough to take him in, give him our beloved son's clothes, and yet he turns us in like this! He boy has a problem, he does. Staying so scrawny even when we give him more than enough food for someone his age to eat. And that stutter! Ruddy annoying it is._'

Vernon's attention was drawn back to the situation at hand when he noticed one of their captors walking towards them, reaching under the long black robe he wore.

Petunia's sharp, beady eyes darted about, taking in the milky-white and soft-seeming skin of someone who had hadn't known hard labour their whole life. Long strands of blonde platinum hair drifted forwards as the man produced a gnarled stick, at the sight of which she produced a short and impossibly high squeak. He twirled it expertly, and held it in a familiarised, grip, and flicked the end at Dudley, who began to transform before their very eyes.

First, his skin gained a pink colour, then his neck seemed to shrink in on itself, as his nose lengthened into a distinctly long snout with large nostrils. With a distinct feeling of dread, Vernon watched helplessly, unable to move or protest as his son transformed into exactly the creature that he had been consuming earlier. A pig.

"It shall be easier to transport them if they are unable to be recognised as humans." The hooded man spoke curtly, watching impassively as the once-human boy snorted around, snuffling for the faintest traces of food; his restraints having broken sometime during the transformation.

Petunia gave a sharp gasp, before lunging forwards towards the hooded man, who watched impassively as she grabbed at his robe, gibbering nonsense and looking up with terrified, pleading eyes. The sharp tug caused the hood to fall backwards, revealing a sharp, aristocratic face, every bit as pale, if not more so, than that of his hand. His silver-grey eyes held no mercy.

-St. Mungo's ~ First Floor-

Albus Dumbledore paused, his hand resting on the door to the ward. Light breaths could be heard from the room's only inhabitant and he felt something change in the atmosphere. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later as a graceful lynx phrased in through the wall behind him. It's mouth opened and it's voice was slow, deep and soothing. Unmistakably that of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Wizards at Privet Drive." The message was clear and concise, but somewhat vague. The patronus dissipated into a cloud of silver mist that expanded as it mixed with the air, leaving behind an irritated Dumbledore, although he hid it well. 'Wizard at Privet Drive' could mean any number of things; from fanatic fans of Harry Potter taking snapshots of his former home to Death eaters terrorising Harry's family. Either way, it wouldn't hurt to pay the place a visit, it was unlikely that Harry was about to wake any time soon.

-Malfoy Manor ~ Living Room-

Draco looked upon the human-turned animals curiously. Certainly the pig-weasel-bull combination looked quite strange, and took up so much space that there wasn't much else to look at; the Malfoy's way of acknowledging that the Dursleys were still human, despite anything else that biological tests might say, had been to grant them a rather large cage. He already had the distinct feeling that he didn't like the pig, which had already consumed all the furnishings in reach, and those that the ferret had pulled in for it. Not that Draco really cared about that, it was more that the large, elaborate cage was in his way. Separating him from the Honeydukes chocolate stored in the cabinet on the other side of the room. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the cage had been positioned so that it prevented the cabinet from opening, effectively cutting off his supply of sweets. And no one got between Draco and his chocolate.

The young Malfoy heir stormed up to the cage angrily, pointing a finger at the trio only to snatch it back as the pig tried to devour that as well. Neither talking, threatening nor bribing had worked so far, so he was on his last option; brute force. Carefully maintaining enough distance from the pig so he wouldn't lose a finger, he shoved at the cage. No movement, not even the slightest tremor. He heaved again. Still nothing.

Something inside of him snapped. It could have been simply because he had previously consumed nearly a kilogram of chocolate just that morning and wanted more, or because it was the first time he'd been denied something without even a compromise. But whatever the cause, it make him kick the cage hard, fuelled by childish rage and sugar-energy.

To his surprise, the cage lifted up into the air, and threw itself away, landing with a crash against the far wall, chipping the brick wall and denting the cage, which had bent sufficiently to allow the animals to escape. He paled and froze, unsure of what to do. After a second, he opened the cupboard, grabbed the remaining stash of chocolate and fled to his room. If anyone asked, he hadn't done anything. Hadn't been sneaking out to peek at the muggles, hadn't liberated some chocolate, and most certainly hadn't destroyed a new cage and set free the wizard-torturing muggles that his father had brought home just earlier that day.

Thankfully for Draco, even has his father known, he wouldn't have been terribly angry with his young son. Or at the least, he wouldn't have let it show. For Lucius was currently entertaining the media reporters.

"Yes, that's correct. We are Mr. Potter's closest blood-relatives who are able to provide him with the care and attention he shall require during his rehabilitation. I know many of you out there are considering that the Malfoys and the Tonks to be rivals, as both of us claim honestly claim close blood-relations with Harry, but consider this; do the Tonks, when it all comes down to it, have the resources with which to provide for this child? My family and I shall be visiting young Harry tomorrow, so please join us again them."

Lucius ended the interview, feeling quite pleased with himself. Even should the Malfoy house not obtain Potter, they would gain in both name and fame, possibly wealth as well, especially if they could sell exclusive interviews. The arranged visit to Harry Potter's ward was two days before media were permitted, giving them plenty of time to influence the boy.

It was ironical really, no other people had bothered to book up visiting sessions with the boy, although it was the only legal way to see him. He did suspect however, that the boy's finders had already visited him, and Dumbledore had snooped around the boy.

Lucius let a pleased smile show on his face as he strode through his mansion with long, confident strides. He turned down a corridor to outside Draco's room, where he heard the bewildering sound of his young son commanding Dobby to close a door. How odd; the door to his room was already closed.

He strode on, only pausing at the door at the end of the corridor; the storeroom. The silence was disturbed here, although it was most likely from the muggle-animals. It had been kind of him, really, to turn them into the shapes that their patronuses, had they been able to cast them, would have assumed. It was their 'true form' after all. He pushed open the door, admiring the high ceiling with it's marble pillars and polished mahogany ceiling stepping forwards with his apple-green Slytherin cloak swirling around him. The instant he stepped into the room, he was crash-tackled by a pig, which seemed quite determined to consume his silken cloak, and didn't seem adverse to slobbering all over him while it was at it.

It was a very disgruntled Lucius that left the storeroom five minutes later, cloak torn and tattered, pig drool lining his hair and deep scratches from the weasel's claws and the bull's horns. He was really going to punish whoever had let the animals out.

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><p>Well, I mentioned it up the top, but I'm considering a time-skip. Unless I get reviews asking me to not, it's what I'm going to go ahead and do. Randomly, who do you think that Harry's going to end up with and how will the win the court case?<p>

Next Update: Most likely next Wednesday again (technically this was posted at 12:40 midnight.. so it's still 12 and not one... very debatable-y still Wednesday... _very_ _debatably..._

_EDIT: Next update will be late; I was waiting for reviews and stuff before writing *cough*took-a-long-time-to-decide-and-not-enough-time-writing*cough* . In any case it'll be the normal procession of events._


	7. Motives

Hello again~ And apologies for the late update, but it's a tad longer than usual (er.. I think..) to make up for it.

Bleh, I was planning to make a small time skip, then couldn't find a way to fit it in without missing out on... important stuff, so that idea was scrapped. Instead, there's going to be tiny little multiple time-skips (like conversations, explanations etc)

To the reviewers:  
><strong>Dannichigo -<strong> Thank you~ It's always nice to see a new reviewer (you _will_ be sticking around right *puppy dog eyes*

**Jostanos -** It's when reading your review that I realise Harry doesn't actually _have_ an adoption case yet... just a crowd of people (figuratively) screaming "We'll adopt you Harry!" In any case, thank you for reviewing~ (and what is it with me and that curly-wavy-hyphen-y thing-y anyway...)

**Fluehatraya -** *innocent eyes* I make them seem deplorable? I thought they were already deplorable! Hehe~ I'm glad it turned out the way I wanted, although I'm hoping that the Malfoys'll get a bit less deplorable. And Dumbledore... will remain his meddling self, simply because I'm unreasonably biased for no reason that I'm aware of. Again, thanks for reviewing~

**Random Person** - (well I feel a bit weird for typing that,) Ed and Al were sort-of introduced way back at the start of the first chapter, although that was really just minor thing so people know that Ed and Harry are the same age. They'll really start playing a role once Harry gets adopted (well I suppose that this chapter makes it pretty clear that the Rockbells are going to adopt Harry - but that's actually somewhat obvious since this is a crossover). Harry will probably get adopted in a chapter or two; first he has to meet/make friends with some wizarding folk.

**TNT -** Thank you~ *snicker* Yes, Laciest Malformed, somehow that reminds me of the picture of Ed in a lacy baby-pink dress. It's fan art from Bluebird's Illusion, and there's an image on /ed-in-a-dress (or .com/bluebirds-illusion/BBI Goodies~/ed in a if people are paranoid about tinyurl directing them somewhere unpleasant) And yes, the spaces are supposed to be there. (Of you could just google it I suppose)

**Singing Alice** **-** Oh, my first death threat-compliment xD Should I be scared or happy? In any case, thank you for the compliment~

When I look back at the last chapter, I notice how Lucius first regarded the Dursleys as humans (albeit inferior ones), then places them in a cage (so dehumanising...), until at the end of the chapter he regards them as animals. Hmm... maybe I'll let Lucius stay deplorable. Grr why is it so easy to write them as really deplorable people, I've obviously been doing too much English/Lord of the Flies.

Extra thanks to Jostanos, after whose review I reread the chapter, facepalmed and edited so it actually makes sense. And that's why you shouldn't write while on a sugar-high...

Declaimer: I haven't owned Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist for the last six chapters and the other story (Alike). Do you really think I'm just suddenly going to start owning them both now? No, I thought not.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven – Motives<strong>

**_If you accept everything you're told without question, you'll lose your ability to think._**

**_Even if you reached the same conclusion..._**

**_It would still be worth analysing the reasons behind it.  
>~ Lacie (Pandora Hearts)<br>(Chapter 66)_**

-St. Mungo's ~ First Floor-

The next few days flew by in a blur for Harry.

_When he awoke, he'd somehow been dressed in clothes that certainly weren't his (he knew because they actually fit him properly). A man with platinum blonde hair had been beside him, sitting in a poised, elegant way in the chair beside the bed. His mannerisms left no doubt that he had power and influence. Even if he was more than a little overbearing._

_In that manner, he had reminded Harry of Vernon. Both were overbearing, with an air about them that stated their own self-importance, downplaying everyone else's. Still, Lucius was at least polite, if nothing else, although he got the feeling that although Lucius was being pleasant now, if ever the blond aristocrat turned on him, he'd find a bitterly determined, spiteful, and above all else, dangerous enemy._

_His son, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. Draco Malfoy, at the age of six and only just learning about manners was brash and outspoken, rarely giving a thought to what other people thought of what he said, or of him. It was doubtful if he even knew when he was being rude, mean or was even aware of it when he hurt someone else's feelings. If nothing else, Harry found his honesty refreshing. When Draco spoke, it was neither with the cold politeness that his classmates had addressed him with; the tone that was a forced politeness and maybe a hint of pity, a quiet 'please go away before Dudley and his gang pick on us as well'. Nor was it the tone that Dudley and his Aunt and Uncle spoke to him with, a menacing, cold and demanding tone that discouraged telling others about what was really going on. Whenever Draco spoke, Harry felt that, more than anything, the young Malfoy was simply voicing whatever thoughts came to mind. It was different from how most nearly everyone else addressed him._

_Over the next three days, the Malfoys had never failed to turn up at nine o'clock sharp. While the nurses had originally been disapproving of the daily visits, they agreed that perhaps spending time with people his age, who _didn't _abuse him, would be good for Harry after Lucius and Narcissa spend a near hour with them in quiet discussion._

_Throughout the next three days, Harry and Draco spend much of their time exploring the hospitals, its catacombs and hidden passages, of which there were a lot more than one would think. Sometimes, Winry tagged along, but most of the time she was absent, either at school or playing with her dolls. He saw little of the Rockbells, and increasingly more of the Malfoys._

_And yet, although he spent near all of his waking hours with Draco and his family, Harry was unable to picture living with them. Everything about them was too rich, aristocratic, noble. He wouldn't belong there, not with his ratty clothes, scrawny figure, messy hair and (thankfully fading) stutter. It was really, much too grand for him. If he had the choice of who he wished to adopt him, he would choose the Rockbells. It wasn't though, as if he could ask them to adopt him, not when he'd already caused so much trouble for them. He already owed them a great deal, increasing the debt was hardly the answer. He continued to think, lying back on white sheets, taking in the rays of the rising sun that illuminated his room. He shot a look at the projected display on the other side of the room. It was only seven in the morning._

_He waited five more minutes until the last dregs of sleepiness seeped from him before sitting up and reaching for his clothes, neatly folded on a chair near the bed. To his surprise, he found a scrap of paper on top, the writing slightly messy, as if the writer had done it in haste._

Harry,  
>You are probably reading this in the morning before the Malfoys visit. It is rude of me to not talk to you in person, however my profession does not allow us to take breaks, so I will have to entrust my words to paper. We know that the Malfoys seek to adopt you, and it may be in your favour to accept their offer, so it is most likely selfishness on my part to propose this, however we truly believe that doing this would be in your best interests.<br>Thus, we would, if you have no objections, like to adopt you into our humble family. We will be by later in the afternoon, so we may talk then, but please consider our offer with the knowledge that we have your best interests at heart.

Sincerely, Urey Rockbell

_Harry placed the scrap of paper down again, not knowing what to think of the situation. Some part of his mind was still struggling to awaken, and the rest didn't know what to make of some of the words that Urey had put in his letter. He was, after all, no genius._

_-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ~ Headmaster's Office-_

_Dumbledore shuffled through some notes, annoyed at the failure the attempt at tracking the muggles had been, although it could be said that he was perhaps more annoyed with the result he had faced. Petunia, Dudley and Vernon Dursley were sentenced to trial by the Wizengamot, for the abuse, physical and otherwise and captivity of one Harry Potter._

_Which was utterly horrible for his cause. While he had no doubt that Harry had suffered at the hands of his closed living relatives, it had given muggles worldwide the right to be_ not_ jinxed or hexed by random passer-by pure-blood wizards. And that was very much worth the price._

_Now that the Dursleys had been exposed, muggles would face renewed scorn, and it was likely to gain them even more extensive hexing than they had before._

_Placing Harry back with his muggle relatives was now out of the question, and leaving him in the grasping hands of the Malfoys would be to allow the mistreatment of muggles. It would be hard to find non-wizarding, yet acceptable, foster-parents for Harry, even more so now that, with the disgrace of the Dursley's, all Harry's non-wizarding relatives were unacceptable. That he might find a wizard who was completely unbiased was near-impossible within the short time frame that he had. Time was slowly, but steadily, ticking away._

_Dumbledore shuffled the papers concerning the Dursleys restlessly. Then he placed them down, checking the date of the trial. It was scheduled in two months so that, whatever happened, it would not affect Harry's adoption case. The Dursleys were very much _not_ a candidate. Now that the Dursleys were no longer useful, they could be pushed down the priority list, although he'd still prepare an at least half-decent defence for them._ After_ Harry was adopted._

_He put down the papers, replacing them with his subscription of the Daily Prophet. He took a glance at the first page then raised his eyebrows._ Finally,_ a suitable candidate to adopt Harry. They didn't stand much chance as they were against the Malfoys, but with his support they just might win. Of course, that was assuming that they'd agree to his conditions..._

_-St. Mungo's ~ First Floor-_

"_Look, I've got over five-hundred!" Draco bragged, waving a chocolate frog card in front of Harry's face for a second, before replacing it with another. Hundreds of cards of famous wizards flashed before his eyes, giving him only seconds to read the name and description._

"_Look there's; Herpo the Foul - and there's his basilisk see, Armando Dippet – he was a headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore – another headmaster, Salazar Slytherin – he's_ really_ rare, Helga Hufflepuff – she's also a founder with Gryffindor, Godric Gryffindor – like I said, one of the founders, Rowena Ravenclaw – another founder, Archibald Alderton – he blew up a hamlet of Little Dropping while trying to mix a birthday cake of all things, Nicolas Flamel – he's _immortal_. And, _this _ones the rarest, Andros the Invincible. He made a patronus the size of a giant._"

_Harry picked up a card gingerly, staring at the moving picture._

"_That's Ethelred the Ever-Ready. He's famous for taking offence at nothing and cursing bystanders, he was also an al- Draco was abruptly cut off as the door to the ward swung open, letting in a gust of wind that scattered the cards. He uttered a sound that, from any other person, would have been labelled as a shriek and scrambled to pick them back up._

_Winry sauntered in, her eyes glued to the laptop she was holding in front of her. He doubted that she'd even noticed that Draco was in the room, and he felt a twinge of jealousy; he'd never been able to get such an expensive device, nor would he ever be able to save up for one. Suddenly, she gave an exclamation, and jumped backwards on the bed, squashing Andros the Invincible, who crumpled like the piece of paper that he was. Not that Winry, tapping away at the keys at an alarming speed, had noticed._

_Draco, on the other hand did. He made a protesting sound as he stared woefully at Winry. He grabbed at another card on the floor (Fulbert the Fearful if Harry was not mistaken), and placed it on the other bed in the room. Far away from Winry._

_As Draco attempted to gather the cards, Urey Rockbell strolled in, taking in the surroundings with slight amusement. He beckoned slightly to Harry, who followed his lead and said a soft goodbye to the pale blond boy._

Harry concluded the flashback, lying back and staring at the ceiling. Just minutes ago, Urey Rockbell had offered to adopt him and he'd accepted the offer. A smile had broken out on the medical wizard's face and they'd talked for a while (Harry noticed with a touch of satisfaction that his stutter was most definitely fading), although it was mostly about polite if not trivial topics before the man had left to turn in the legal application form.

Urey walked along, humming a silent melody to himself. After so long, the path to the floo-fire was familiar, though he couldn't claim to be able to make it there with his eyes closed.

As he scooped up a handful of the floo powder, preparing to throw it into the fireplace, the fire began to spin, forming a shape covered by a long blue robe covered in five-pointed stars and crescent moons. He stopped himself from throwing the floo power just in time; another fault of the floo system was that someone appearing in a fire could be accidentally sent away by another person wishing to use the fire.

As the fire whirled faster, the person came into more detail, revealing a face lined by time. He also wore half-moon spectacles that half-hid his twinkling eyes. There was, however, something disconcerting in that gaze. It was a look of quiet confidence, one that stated his side to be the right side; his side being 'good'. The twinkle was part amusement, part knowledge, as if he knew everything about you, as if he found your efforts amusing. As if everyone else were just children in his eyes.

The old man stepped stately out of the fireplace, and almost started upon noticing Urey. '_Is that not the man I saw, the first time I visited Harry? To think that is the candidate for Harry's foster parents.._'

Dumbledore extended a hand to the man, ignoring that his pose clearly stated that he was waiting to use the floo. The man's own problems could wait.

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><p>Sorry if the majority of this chapter was a bit confusing. The large part which is in <em>italics<em>, is Harry's flashback. The few words which isn't in italics there is for emphasis.

A/N: So... while looking up chocolate frog cards, I found an 'alchemical genius'. At first I though '_Oh, there's someone I can hav__e Ed meet and maybe compete with..._' Then I read further... Paracelsus, alchemical genius, discoverer of Parseltongue, contributor to medicine and very secretive alchemist, turned out to be Philippus Theophrastus Aureolus Bombastus von **Hohenheim**.

If we follow the anime events, Hohenheim stayed with Envy and Dante for a while before ditching them, so he could have discovered parseltongue during this time, or discovered it during the while that he spend in Envy's mouth (although he'd somehow have to survive getting killed – if that makes any sense, which it doesn't much), made his contributions to medicine while crafting new limbs for Ed and been very secretive since he was from another world, so it wouldn't be like he could openly announce where he was from. Although it doesn't quite explain how he supposedly died before WWII, but then again, Hohenheim is very mysterious... Whether or not Ed's father is going to ever play a role is something you're going to have to guess for yourself =)

The next update _may_ be a week from now, or might get shifted back to the Wednesday. It really depends on how lazy I'm feeling.

Also, I might be making a bonus chapter for Harry's Christmas with the Rockbells. Although, of course, knowing me I'll probably only have it done by next Easter, because I _am_ that lazy. But meh *is too lazy to care*

_EDIT: Later update due to time taken editing this. _


	8. Unseen World Part I

Hello Everyone~

Small change from before; from now on questions (and other comments on reviews etc.) shall be answered by pm. Unless, of course, reviewers aren't logged in, which more or less forces me to reply here.

This is a shorter chapter, but it seemed like a good place to end it so..

Jostanos - I.. can't write romance. End story. Besides, Ed, Harry, Draco, Winry (and the younger cast), are too young for anything (keeping in mind that they're six). The fate of the Dursleys... shall be revealed at a later date, but you can rest assured that Lucius Malfoy wasn't happy with the stunt they pulled back in chapter six, which is fair enough really. Back on track, chapter seven has been edited (and I'm never going to write when I'm on a sugar-high again). Hmm? Oh, chocolate frog cards... yes very mundane.. *distractedly answers*

I read Pandora Hearts, and am in absolute awe at how Jun Mochizuki uses her characters over and over again... (This shall be relevant for a later date..)

Disclaimer: Look up at your url bar. Do you know what site this is? . It's pretty safe to assume that this is, indeed, a _fanfiction_ then, is it not?

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight – Unseen World (Part I)<strong>

_**Just because you can't see it,**_

_**Doesn't mean it isn't there**_

_**~ Unknown**_

-Unspecified Area...-

The ceiling was white white white. It was unchanged no matter where he looked. No cracks or stains marred it's surface. None dared. '_But then again, what did I expect? This is Malfoy Manor after all._'

It had been a week since his talk with Urey Rockbell. A week during which the Malfoys had seemed more tense than ever. They'd spoken to the hospital staff to arrange a play-date at their mansion, to which the hospital had readily agreed, provided that they received payment for the 'hire of Harry Potter', and that the famous boy-who-lived would be returned to their care as soon as the trip was over.

It had been decided that, rather than sending him to an adoption home which he would have to leave again following adoption, he would remain in the hospital which was neutral territory and, in theory, where each of his adoption candidates had equal chance to meet him. In reality, only the Malfoys and the Rockbells had been granted visitation rights, the others ending up hopelessly lost within the maze of corridors and misleading portraits or faced with a booked-out waiting list to meet him (it turned out that the hospital was making a small fortune by auctioning off visitation rights).

A loud _crack_ dragged his thought to the present, as he nearly jumped back a meter into the air at the appearance of the strange goblin-elf. It reminded him horribly of a deformed, malnourished human child with it's bony arms and large wide eyes, and he barely repressed a flinch in revulsion. It was only upon second glance that he realised the eyes were far too large and orb-like, that the ears bat-like and the nose were too large and pointed to be human. He looked closer at the creature, noticing the lined face, small tufts of hair at the top of an otherwise bald head, unnaturally thin wrist and the complete lack of flesh. It was, all in all, a very unnatural sight. The fact that it was wearing what appeared to be a potato sack didn't help didn't help either.

Beside him, Draco held out his cloak imperiously to the creature, motioning for him to do the same. With a flicker of guilt, he realised that he'd been staring at the elf-thing. Uncertainly, he untied the long black cloak from around his shoulders, nervously fingering it as he held it out in an imitation of his friend.

He would only later learn that the house-elf (for that was what it was known as), was called Dobby, and would later play a great role in his life.

For now, Draco was beckoning him outside again, to the broom-shed, so he brushed the existence of the elf aside.

The sky was a bright sapphire blue and the clouds a fluffy white. It was so perfect it rather seemed like a picture more than reality. Harry idly wondered if the whole thing was a projected image that the Malfoys had bought. He supposed it didn't make much of a difference. It was all just a backdrop to _flying_.

Somehow, flying suited him; he had taken to the air like a fish to water, or a bird to air. It was natural. The broomsticks were well-trimmed, polished and buffed up to the extreme. They responded to his every movement; it almost seemed that they acted upon his thoughts.

There was also something delightful about being with a friend without adults. It could have been that he didn't need to be polite or it might have been the knowledge that there was no-one to judge him; friends didn't count after all. He was very glad that Lucius had relied on the house elves to catch either of them should they fall. Harry, who wasn't sure if he wanted to be caught by a house elf, clutched his broomstick tightly.

He was only barely aware of the passing of hours, or the slow decent of the sun into the sky; he was simply enjoying himself far too much to stop.

-Malfoy Manor ~ Living Room-

Narcissa Malfoy, on the other hand, was not enjoying herself at _all_. She sat uncomfortably on the couch, her dress elegantly splayed around her. This, however was not the cause of her distress, which stemmed from the sheet of finances she held. It painted a grim picture; four thousand galleons 'donated' to St. Mungo's, two thousand galleons, five sickles and eighteen knuts spent buying Harry much needed new clothes, and five hundred galleons convincing St. Mungo's to allow Harry to visit. Rich as the Malfoys were, even they could not keep spending so rapidly over a mere week. They either had to quickly adopt Harry, or conclude the endeavour and gracefully had the boy over to the Stonechimes, or whatever the other family had been called.

At the rate things were moving, which was quite slowly, it was far more likely that the latter occur. It seemed a humiliating but inevitable possibility. Even should they be successful with the adoption, they would still have to pay to clothe, feed and supply the boy with whatever object he took a fancy to, which would be a lot of objects, if he were to follow Draco's example. They would still be fairly wealthy, yes, but no longer able to claim the title of one of the wealthiest families in the wizard world, second only to Gringotts; the old goblin had made a fortune when he started the bank, leaving a fortune several times even the richest wizards to his descendants piled the bank's funds into it (it was rumoured that the deepest vault in Gringotts, a hidden vault whose location is only known to the heir of Gringott's legacy, belonged to the senior deceased goblin himself and contained treasures beyond comprehension).

Narcissa flicked her quill, dispatching the blob of ink that had built up at the nib. The black drop sailed through the air, landing safely away on a white sofa. Almost immediately, a house elf appeared with a muted_ crack_. Narcissa directed her attention back to the parchment, knowing the house elf would see that the sofa would be restored to a good-as-new state.

The situation was not as bad as it first seemed. Even if they did adopt the boy-who-lived, there was no way to incorporate him fully into the family, and he was a half-blood in any case. Once he'd grown up, the ties between the Malfoy family and the only remaining Potter would weaken. At the current moment, Draco was probably the boy-who-lived's closest friend, although that was to be expected since Draco was one of the first people to show kindness to Harry.

If it was a friendship that could be maintained as the boys grew up, it would be just as binding as adopting him into the Malfoy family, and quite a bit cheaper.

'_Yes,_' she decided, '_it's much better financially and possibly socially; __it won't seem as if we are forcing our decisions upon the boy, but giving him a choice of his own._'

It did have the distinct advantage that the opposition would have five years to influence the boy, but once he arrived at Hogwarts, they would have five years themselves. And it wasn't like they couldn't visit the boy once he got adopted anyway. She rather liked the idea.

She rose in one fluid motion, perfectly balanced in precariously high heels. With only the barest hint of detectable hesitation in her step, she turned a corner towards her husband's office.

-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ~ Headmaster's Office-

"This is utterly unacceptable!" Urey Rockbell's voice echoed slightly off the paintings hung cosily about the room.

On the opposite side of the desk Dumbledore sighed heavily, as if it were more for show than anything.

"It is a most necessary approach. Lord Voldemort," he noted that Urey did not flinch, "may be defeated, but his followers remain."

Seeing that Urey still seemed on the verge of protest, he continued forcefully, "If you do not like my measures, all you have to do is decline my deal. It is, after all, your choice. I can't _force_ you to agree, but without my help your chances of a successful adoption of Harry Potter are slim at best, nearing impossibility."

It was a message with an underlying threat, one that Dumbledore could very well carry out.

And it wasn't much of a choice really.

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><p>I seem to write slower in the holidays, so..<p>

Next Update: Probably this time next week.

I don't hate St. Mungo's. Just that, if they even have a donation fountain, they'd probably require extra funds (it's a hospital, there's no such thing as too much funding). And it's not like they're making a _large_ fortune off Harry's visitation rights, and they do need to pay people, get food and supplies for patients, pay the rent (?) and bills so it's for a good cause. (Like how fundraising items cost more, but they aren't trying to scam you).


	9. Unseen World Part II

Once again, hello readers~ (And congrats for making it this far)

Erk, I definitely write slower in the holidays (just because I sleep in late and don't feel like writing...)

This is a slightly longer chapter to make up for the wait... I think (More importantly, 30 Reviews! I feel loved :D - well that and it's also 10x the amount for my other story..  
>Can I get another ten for a ChristmasNew Years present? *puppy dog eyes*) - Well, reviews aside..

Er... I may have lied in earlier chapters + reply to a review about Ed's appearance... since he doesn't really show up in this chapter, so there's a small preview of the next chapter at the bottom (think of it as a peace offering from the authoress :)

Jostanos -  
>Dumbledore: Oho~ An pineapple and custard pastry! Oho~ A pastry created from entirely sugar~<br>*Wince* Sugar-high Dumbledore is not something I want to see... *forces Dumbledore off stage* I don't think he'll be reappearing for a while. (( Now Dobby, do as the nice authoress says and drop this in his next pastry - why are you looking at me like that, it's _not_ poison... Whatever gave you that idea..? *guilty laugh*)) Hum~ Dumbledore thanks you for the pastries.. I think I've given up mostly on trying to understand 'the-sage-of-Ryu-Manor-Nexus-of-universes(Not-to-be-confused-with-the-Marvel-equivilent):-Jostanos-Baltizar-Crux' That was a long breath.. But... He knows Final Fantasy :D *Instant Approval*  
>Look Harry, there's candy!~ Now go! (And be sure to bring some back for me..)<br>Well.. this A/N is getting wayy too long.. *stops talking*

Disclaimer: I don't own, I don't earn (money from this).

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine – Unseen World (Part II)<strong>

_**Just because you can't see it,**_

_**Doesn't mean it isn't there**_

_**~ Unknown**_

-Malfoy Manor ~ Lucius' Office-

The patriarch of the Malfoy family sat, relaxed and comfortable in his chair. The west-facing window let in the golden rays of the setting sun and a light breeze slipped in through the open shutters.

In front of him, framed by a mahogany table, lay a single piece of parchment. It was a finance sheet, one listing all the possible savings they would make if the Rockbells were to adopt Harry Potter.

The picture is painted was quite desirable; they would save tens of thousands of galleons, gain positive public recognition and be able to foster a close friendly relationship with the boy-who-lived.

The Rockbells were quite obviously not as wealthy as the Malfoys, and probably couldn't afford to spoil Harry. They, the Malfoys, would earn the trust and loyalty of the boy through frequent visits and just as frequent gifts.

Lucius stood. It seemed a visit to Urey Rockbell was in order.

-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ~ Headmaster's Office-

Dumbledore was quite glad that things had turned out as they did.

_Mere seconds after Urey Rockbell had agreed to his conditions, and as they were walking down the winding staircase, Lucius Malfoy greeted them from the guardian gargoyle._

_Strangely enough, what first left his mouth wasn't remarks about the state of their clothes, or their fashion sense, but instead a deferential greeting._

_Lucius Malfoy was never deferential._

_Dumbledore's surprise only grew as the pale aristocrat strode forward and clasped Urey's hand like he might a brother. Or perhaps more accurately, he clasped Urey's hand as he might to another influential pure-blood and announced in a voice free of disdain that the Malfoy house was entrusting the Rockbells with the health and welfare of Harry Potter._

_Something was most definitely odd, but before he had the chance to inquire into the situation, Lucius Malfoy strode off, his hand still clamped on Urey's. He barely caught Urey's awed yet cautious glance; the man most likely though he'd influenced Lucius Malfoy. And yet, oddest of all was that he swore Lucius Malfoy had been _ignoring_ him, as if his input was no longer important. It puzzled him greatly._

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, easing the thoughtful frown off his face. Really, everything had turned out for the best; Urey, having agreed to his conditions beforehand, was still under his control and Lucius had only helped to speed his plan along. He was just so very glad that Lucius Malfoy had not shown up earlier.

-Malfoy Manor ~ Lucius' Office-

Lucius flicked through that day's paper, disinterested. Most of the articles mentioned the possibilities of a court battle between the Malfoy family and their apparent 'rival', the Rockbells.

It was ironic really, how little legal paperwork there had actually been. All that had been required was a document stating that Urey would remain responsible for the behaviour of his new charge. It had taken them less than ten seconds to sign, Urey as the foster parent and Lucius as the witness. He'd left then, after another handshake and wishes of good fortune.

He had, in fact, left so soon that he missed seeing the clerk levitate three stacks, each thirty centimetres high, of paper towards Urey, explaining that muggles seemed to be fond of paperwork.

-Three Days Later-

Urey had devoted a day to each stack of paper, carefully reading through each sheet – and through all the small print – before signing.

He was therefore delighted as he signed the last sheet (something about accepting liability for his foster child's actions until they came of age). While he had dutifully read and signed each sheet by hand – he knew many wizards tended to use a mass-replication spell, he found the whole exercise rather pointless.

In another three days time, Harry would be gone from Wizarding Britain, from the Earth altogether. The few muggles that had known of his existence would have their memories altered and forget the scrawny pale boy that had once lived at Number Four, Privet Drive and would most likely never again be aware of his existence. Even assuming that he'd return to the Wizarding World to attend Hogwarts, the muggle government would probably never be made aware or either his absence or his return. Which effectively meant that he'd spent three days of full, non-stop work in vain, even if they were supposed important legal documents.

He stood and stretched, sending the last pile of documents flying away into a green floo-fire with a flick of his wand. He was going to miss using magic and hoped that Harry would choose to learn it. Magic was an invaluable tool and a great asset for anyone. But for wizards, it was their heritage and their inheritance.

Which reminded him; he still needed to pick up Harry's old belonging from his Aunt and Uncle's place.

-England ~ Little Whingling ~ 4th Privet Drive-

Urey appeared with only the slightest _pop_ to herald his arrival. He was dressed in muggle clothing, so he opted to go through to front door. Curiously, there was no-one at home despite it being past sunset and a thin layer of dust had begun to build up on tabletops and furniture as if no-one had been home for an extended period of time.

He was quite stumped when, upon searching the bedrooms, he was unable to find anything that belonged to Harry. Did the boy have no possessions at all?

Finally, another hour later, when he though to check the cupboard under the stairs, he found Harry's few possessions; a small, old tattered mattress, few broken crayons and coloured pencils and carefully folded pieces of paper – treasured artworks from school. Most of the things the boy would probably do better without, but he put them away into his bag nevertheless, who knew if he had any sentimental attachments to them. They fit nicely, thanks to an undetectable extension charm.

-St Mungo's ~ First Floor-

When he arrived back at the hospital – they hadn't moved Harry yet – he wasn't surprised to find the boy sleeping. He found a box of Belgian chocolate by his dresser, which the hospital staff had kindly placed in his room after learning that he was staying for an extended period of time, quite clearly just one of the daily gifts from the Malfoys. He shook his head; rich and pampered as the Malfoys were, they had no idea of how to raise children.

There was no point in waking Harry, not when it was so late, so he left for his house. It was lucky that he didn't have to go to work tomorrow, having cast a charm over the building a few days ago to trick the administration staff into thinking that he had handed in his resignation paper weeks earlier. They would not think anything of the matter.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny. Harry practically leapt out of bed, adrenaline replacing his usual sleepiness. Urey was going to take him shopping today! Admittedly, it was mainly just shopping for simple (but new) clothes and basic school supplies; he had neither a lunch box nor a school bag, but to him they were luxuries that had always been out of his grasp. Besides Urey had said that he could get something for himself, something the Dursleys had never permitted.

First, they visited the smaller stores, shopping for sensible leather shoes before moving on to clothing chains. Harry was looking through a stack of knitted maroon jumpers when he noticed a man, almost jumping with excitement, bow to him before disappearing with a _pop_. At the time, Harry had thought that he was hallucinating, or maybe dreaming. Later, as time passed, Harry would come to wish that what had happened was a dream.

Yet, he remained blissfully unaware, as he turned from the man and back to the jumpers before him.

The shopping trip finished uneventfully, aside from the two having great difficulty lugging back eight full bags of various clothing and school supplies, unable to use magic in the midst of a muggle shopping centre.

That night, as he looked up at the stars from his seat on the top of the roof, he reflected that perhaps, just perhaps, shopping wasn't quite as great as everyone made it out to be. After all, his feet _still_ ached from standing for hours straight and trying on a literal mountain of clothes had been torturous. Especially since he'd needed to keep track of the ones he wanted, and the ones he'd rather not have. Urey had, however, allowed him to buy things for himself as promised. He'd only taken little things; a few lollipops at the checkouts, a packet of gum he'd always wanted to try and a small glass snow globe.

He held up the snow globe carefully, almost reverently. It was a peculiar spherical shape filled with white drifting flakes and glittering specks. It also made for a fabulous magnifying glass; being perfectly clear and without the slightest scratch to mar its surface. He put it back into its case and laid back again. The stars twinkled from their positions thousands of leagues beyond him, and he was only just barely aware of a sneaking feeling of sleepiness.

~ Day Three – Preparing to leave Wizarding Britain ~

Harry actually though he might be starting to hate shopping. And packing. And moving. And suitcases. But then it could be almost expected after five hours of cramming clothing into a suitcase quite obviously too small for it to fit. In the end, Sara had managed to do what he had been unable to do in five hours in less than five seconds with a flick of her wand.

It wasn't like he wasn't thankful for her help, but rather that he was slightly envious. After all, no-one liked finding out that they'd wasted a great deal of the day doing something easily accomplished in under a minute? And for that matter, who didn't want powers that, in his mind, could do most anything without consequence – who didn't want to be all-powerful? Absolutely no-one, right?

That was what he thought before he met Edward Elric, alchemical genius and the one who would turn his perspective of the world upside-down.

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><p>And now for the promised preview... (Of course it might get edited a bit and such...)<p>

**Chapter Nine – Alchemy**

_**One who accepts and understands the flow of power, and constructs using that knowledge...**_

_**Is called an Alchemist.**_

_**~ Izumi Curtis**_

-Amestris ~ Risembool 1995-

From the moment Harry saw his to-be best friend, he knew that Edward Elric was different. It was partially due to his golden hair and eyes, but mostly because the first sight he got of the boy was him getting hit by a metal wrench, which he only recognised because Winry had been cradling it throughout the whole train ride from Central while talking about how much she missed her friends, especially 'Ed' and 'Al'.

He'd looked at Winry with an expression somewhere between horror, fear and awe. Then astonishment had set in; why would Winry, sweet innocent and technological-loving Winry suddenly throw a metal projectile at someone who she had for only a fraction of a second – who had only been conversing with his brother?

He'd stood there then, just staring at the sight before him. There was, strangely enough, no blood on the scene and the metal wrench had somehow reappeared in Winry's hands as she rushed down the hill she had been standing on towards the two boys.

Something clicked in his mind then, as he watched his new foster-sister run down the hill shouting to the boys below.

"Edward Elric you _midget_! You're still as short as ever!"

Harry stared; that was surely an extremely rude way to greet a friend, although he supposed it was better than throwing metal wrenches at their heads. He noted that she'd only seemed to have aimed for Ed and hoped, _really_ hoped, that she didn't always greet people, or even just him, by throwing things. His foster-sister was quite scary.

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><p>Next Update? Who knows.. I don't..<p> 


	10. Stranger

Well this has been a _long_ break...

So I discover that Christmas isn't really the season for fanfiction if the lower numbers of review and views are anything to go by. (So if everyone who's alerted/favourite'd this fic might leave a small review- even a one-word one!, I'd be really happy)  
>(Then of course, school sorta kills time for writing full stop...)<p>

In addition to that I get the feeling that my writing style has change (a lot...), which makes writing Code Geass fics seem more preferable at the moment... I'll admit that the only reason I felt like writing this was because I had a large science assignment due, which sort of led my brain along to the trail of alchemy.. Updates in future will probably be highly sporadic- I'm not dropping this fic though.

To my dear, lovely reviewers...  
>You're inspirational. Seriously. I mean it; I'm quite sure that reviews are the fuel that a lot of us run on, (that or it's favourites and alerts), but it <em>is<em> nice to know that someone's reading. And your reviews were sort-of the motivation/guilt-trip I needed in order for this chapter to exist so it's not going too far to say that this chapter is practically dedicated to: _Fluehatraya_, _soefon_ and _Jostanos_.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Ten - Stranger<strong>_

_**Action and reaction, ebb and flow, trial and error, change - this is the rhythm of living. Out of our over-confidence, fear; out of our fear, clearer vision, fresh hope. And out of hope, progress.**_

_**~Bruce Barton**_

-Amestris ~ Risembool 1995-

From the moment Harry saw his to-be best friend, he knew that Edward Elric was different. It was partially due to his golden hair and eyes, but mostly because the first sight he got of the boy was him getting hit by a metal wrench, which he only recognised because Winry had been cradling it throughout the whole train ride from Central while talking about how much she missed her friends, especially 'Ed' and 'Al'.

He'd looked at Winry with an expression somewhere between horror, fear and awe. Then astonishment had set in; why would Winry, sweet innocent and technological-loving Winry suddenly throw a metal projectile at someone who she had seen for only a fraction of a second - who had only been conversing with his brother?

He'd stood there then, just staring at the sight before him. There was, strangely enough, no blood on the scene and the metal wrench had somehow reappeared in Winry's hands as she rushed down the hill she had been standing on towards the two boys.

Something clicked in his mind then, as he watched his new foster-sister run down the hill shouting to the boys below.

"Edward Elric you _midget_! You're still as short as ever!"

Harry started; that was surely an extremely rude way to greet a friend, although he supposed it was better than throwing metal wrenches at their heads. He noted that she'd only seemed to have aimed for Ed and hoped, _really_ hoped, that she didn't always greet people, or even just him, by throwing things. His new foster-sister was proving herself quite intimidating.

For an instant, he thought the boy was going to throw the wrench back, and prepared to dodge. To his surprise, there was no sound metal whirling through the air, but a squelchy sound that was so much worse; a literal mud 'monster' moving towards them.

It was about one and half meters high - taller than them all by quite a bit, and wobbling as if not quite stable. Rather than walking, it seemed to crawl up the hill towards them like a snail, leaving a muddy trail of dirty water behind, but moving much faster than a snail.

Caught between half fascination and horror, he stood, half frozen but subtly inching behind Winry who stared at the creature, likewise captivated by digust and facinated horror.

It reach the top of the hill, where they were, and collapsed noisily, splashing them with mud.

To Harry's horror, it wasn't the type of mud you get when it rains- when it was more brown water than anything else, but a horrible clingy mud with a doughy consistency. It clung, it stained, it stuck and it was _slimy_. He made a disgusted face and tried to scrape it off with his bare hands.

Winry was worse off, having been closest at the time. Her dress, previously a lovely sunny yellow one with sunflowers, was blotchy and riddled with brown splotches large and small. The boys below laughed, though there was no malice intended, although the younger one who had not had the wrench thrown at him looked guiltier than gleeful.

The laughing faces faded as Winry pulled out another gleaming metal wrench, giving Harry less than a second to wonder where she'd pulled it out from before she threw it with unnerving accuracy. It make a 'clanging' noise as it bounced off the elder boy's head and he fell over, obviously stunned- but possibly unconscious, while his brother started and looked at Winry warily.

By this point in time, Harry was feeling rather left out- not that he particularly wanted to be involved; he had a feeling that Winry had the capacity to _kill_ someone- and shuffled away slowly, deciding that he'd rather not be present should the lone conscious boy send another mud monster after them.

It should probably be mentioned that his first impression of Edward Elric and, to a lesser extent, Alphonse Elric wasn't exactly a 100% positive one. More specifically, his first impression was that Edward Elric was _weird_.

By either chance or fortune, Harry didn't encounter the two brother again until the next week, at school.

It was the start of a new year of school so he was not, at least, the only new person. There were five others presented to the class; three transferred from the city and the remaining two were twins who had moved to Risembool to live with their uncle- their parents having died in a riot that had broken out in a town near the Eastern Desert.

It wasn't as if he disliked this new school; it was a huge improvement from his old, but he found himself surprisingly lonely at times; of all the new kids, he was the only one without an interesting past, without any stirring stories about the might of the country, or the savages that inhabited the desert.

Winry was constantly there, always friendly and ever so approachable, yet he found himself keeping a slight distance from her- the wrench incident unforgotten.

For the first week, he drifted, wandering around the school and through his own thoughts, only really paying attention when the teacher called on him to answer and only half-heartedly copying down the notes.

It was on one such day, that he finally snapped out of his extended trance-like state.

Mr. Kelvin, a tall stern and near-bald man, was explaining the the properties of atoms, supposed 'building blocks' of the world. Harry was himself sceptical; not finding reason to believe that everything and himself was made up of tiny _bits_ so small no-one could see them. He sat attentively none-the-less, determined to remember, if only so that he would be able to answer the questions Mr. Kelvin so loved to ask his students.

"And so, note how the smallest atom, Hydrogen, has a weight of 1.008-" he cut himself off abruptly, almost flinching as a lazy hand raised itself into the air.

Harry, who had been copying him down, word for word, looked up, startled at the sudden pause.

"Sensei, hydrogen has a _mass_ of 1.0079." Ed's voice hinted at drowsiness and not-so-hidden boredom.

Mr. Kelvin flinched slightly and shifted uneasily. "Well now, there's not all that much difference between weight and mass at your age, and 1.008 is just rounded up a bit," he attempted to pass off his earlier mistake. Harry wasn't sure why the blond boy was making such a big deal out of it, weight and mass were the one and the same and it was a minuscule difference, right?

Ed sat up straighter, the first sign of attentiveness he'd shown all semester. "However, weight is the amount of gravity acting upon an object, while mass is the amount of matter an object consists of. Isn't it impervious that we learn these things right from the start? And on the subject of rounding, in any scientific experiment, we try to ensure that the results are as accurate as possible, correct? By rounding from the start, we are already sabotaging out results. The presence of oxygen was only discovered due to the absolute accuracy with which Joseph Priestly conducted his experiments."

It was a convincing argument, shooting down all of Mr. Kelvin's points while providing valid ones. Looking back, a few years later, Harry would regret that he'd been unable to understand the near entirety of it. He was, however, able to understand that weight and mass were apparently not the same thing; knowledge he would later flaunt for the sake of appearing intelligent and knowledgeable. However, the most important thing he'd learnt that day was something that had been in front of him, and quite obviously so, for some time; Edward Elric was _different_.

Watching Mr. Kelvin flinch and blurt out seemingly random, half-nonsensical reasoning in a most unprofessional manner, he thought back to all his other classes, realising that he'd never really noticed the blond boy before. Or rather, the teacher had never seemed to notice him.

Ed's form in his memories was nearly always leaning forward over his desk, pen in hand and writing something at an absurd speed. He'd never looked up, sometimes slouched in his seat, sometimes even took a nap and never raised his hand to answer questions. Then again, he'd never been called upon to answer questions before either. It was rather bewildering really, the teacher seemed to almost ignore his existence, yet be polite up to the point of wariness, backing down and following by his logic and reasoning. But most of all, they _listened_. If ever Ed raised a topic, they'd listen intently, if ever he pointed out a mistake, they'd correct it, often following his words without doubt, not even bothering to check if he was indeed correct. Most of the time it seemed almost as if _Ed_ was teaching, despite him never showing any effort. It was odd to say the least.

His curiosity about the boy only increased during the short break they had after science, as he found himself trailing off behind him. It was a learning experience; small things that he'd never really taken the time to notice (like how Ed would always sit with Al under the large fig tree that overlooked the playground, or how everyone else seemed somewhat deferential to the two brothers), were made blindingly obvious. It didn't do anything to answer his questions though; there wasn't the slightest hint _why_ everyone was so polite- sometimes to the extent of a near fear. What it did do, on the other hand, was prove the boys' popularity. It seemed as if all the other students and number of the staff were keen to become their friends.

In comparison, Ed and Al seemed somewhat cold; nearly always sitting by themselves unless someone, usually Winry, came to sit with them. Compared to the others, they made little or no efforts to socialise and become friends.

Regardless, they were popular, and, as someone who had never been truly popular before in his life, Harry found himself slightly envious of the two, unable to comprehend why it was so.

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><p>Updates, as mentioned at the start of the chapter, <em>will <em>be highly sporadic, and they'll probably slow down once (if) I start a Code Geass fic as well. Thanks for reading (and is it just me or did a start too many sentences with the word 'Harry'?). Might come back and edit this chapter later...


	11. Anomaly

So, I had this written up for a while, but lacked the motivation to edit and post this. On this plus side, this chapter alone (A/N excluded) is 2.2k words, which is quite a bit longer than usual. So enjoy~

Thanks to _Featherpen1800, Jostanos and Yoruko Rhapsodos _(always nice to see a new reviewer)for reviewing~

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven - Anomaly<strong>

_**Change alone is eternal, perpetual, immortal.**_

_**~Arthur Schopenhauer**_

Harry waited out the rest of the week, quietly observing the brothers and finding no explanation for the odd behaviour by everyone- whether it was odd politeness, a willingness to overlook faults, something close to worship or, in Winry's case, an inexplicable urge to throw solid metallic tools at their heads with unerring accuracy. It was by this time that he came to the conclusion that everyone, excluding Winry, seemed to be nearly _scared_ of the two.

He'd dismissed the notion at first, unable to believe that grown adults would be scared of two under-ten boys; their own students. But he was quickly finding that other alternatives were near non-existent.

It was a week later that he mentioned the Elric brothers to Winry, in a small side throw-away comment about how they were always together, yet alone. He hadn't meant for her to take him seriously, hadn't even really meant to say it out loud, but what was said could not be unsaid. Unfortunately.

Winry dragged him along as she walked home with the Elrics that afternoon, which would have been bearable if they'd had any topics to talk about. As it was, the walk was painfully strained, with Alphonse and Winry making small talk- comments about the weather, assignments (Alphonse, Harry learned, actually bothered to pay some semblance of attention in class), while Edward walked along the 3-foot rock ledges alongside the path.

It was only when the reached an worn stone bridge that Ed spoke. "Oka-san's making stew tonight. You can come over, if you want."

His voice is open, friendly, if not rather brash and somewhat blunt, but Harry appreciates the gesture anyway- because it's the first time he's ever been invited to someone's home, excluding the adoption period.

He hadn't expected Winry to immediately accept on his behalf, but she did anyway, almost as . The brothers didn't seem surprised either- he had a feeling that they would have been more surprised if she'd declined, and figured that, since they appeared to be close, this sort of thing happened all the time.

It didn't change the fact that Ed had been looking at him when he'd offered though. He rather thought that it was the first time someone his age had approached him without ulterior motives; it was different from the kids back at his old school, who'd approach him in order to lure away Dudley's wrath, and different from Winry, who'd pitied him and only really approached because her parents had requested it; he had been able to tell that he wasn't the reason for her hanging around him.

This was different. And Harry rather thought that he liked the change.

So he wasn't really upset- not when Winry dragged him through his wardrobe (which held more clothes than he'd previously seen before the last few months), or when his shoe fell off and he nearly twisted his ankle running across to Ed and Al's house. Even the twinge of jealously as Trisha Elric spoke to Winry and her sons was muted. Which was just as well, as she turned to him a moment later, offering a wide smile and outstretched hand in welcome.

He found out much more about Edward Elric that night than he had the past week. He learned that he: hated milk, spoiled his younger brother, possibly had a brother complex, hadn't seen his father in years and had a soft spot for cute animals which, while not exactly hidden, wasn't regularly revealed either. It was intriguing to say the least, but also gave him an approachable side- and Harry personally found the kitten Alphonse had adopted adorable as well.

He was, he reasoned, well on the way to becoming friends with the blond enigma, if they were not that already.

The next day, and throughout the next week, Harry found himself recipient to smiles, waves and even the occasional 'Hello' from the two brothers. He also found himself wandering down to their spot in the shade more and more often during breaks, sometimes walking down with Edward, who was conveniently placed in all of his classes.

His increased exposure to the Elric brothers also brought about a number of unforeseen side effects, all of which were positive so far as he could tell. The new exchange students began to converse with him and the school, oddly enough, began to think of him as approachable- the very thing that he'd only recently begun to think of the Elrics.

More and more often, Harry found himself spending time with the Elrics, Winry and in particular one exchange student who had previously been privately tutored and had never properly developed social skills. Harry had always been far to busy avoiding Dudley to develop them- not that most of the people had wanted to risk being sighted with him in any case.

Saiph Hokoda was a small, petite thing with fair skin, flowing, long white tresses and aqua-green eyes. Her mother had served in the army as a corporal before she had been killed in action during a riot. Following that, her father had decided to move out into the country, which was regarded as considerably safer. He'd only seen the man once, but had concluded that they were almost nothing alike. Her father was tall and lanky, sharp brown eyes set in tanned skin with an almost shifty demeanour. Saiph, while not exactly outwardly welcoming, was at least straightforward with a careful air of innocence to her.

A whirl of white drew his attention to the scene; Saiph walking away from a group of girls with an arrogant, almost haughty flare in her step. '_She's bitter too_', he noted mentally. Admittedly, it was reasonable bitterness - while not nobility, she was close to it, and had the financial backing as well; financial backing that the rest of them lacked or did not possess so much of.

Whether it was because she could feel his gaze, or if she was merely glancing around, she noticed him and walked over; a brisk and confident pace unusual for a seven-year old. Her eyes raked his face, examined his posture and shifted to take note of any action. For an instant, he wondered just what kind of training she had through, to analyse him so thoroughly when he hadn't even done anything against her.

"Harry," she acknowledged, "how's your day been?"

It was an attempt at starting a conversation, no matter how feeble. Even to him, it was obvious that she was holding herself back from asking something, but he indulged her anyway, replying and asking her likewise. He fell into step with her as she seemed to wander almost aimlessly, drifting around until she reached the large field at the back of the school. The sun scorched down on them, and she headed for the only shade not crowded by masses of people; the large fig tree.

He understood now, perfectly in fact. Saiph Hokoda, just like all of the other students, was curious about the Edward and Alphonse Elric. In all honesty, he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised, having been exposed to everyone's curiosity ever since he had visited the Elrics for dinner. Not, mind you, that he regretted doing so. Just that he'd hoped that the school might see him as more than just another method to get close to the Elric brothers- he was sure that they did in actuality, despite often (accidentally he was sure) seeming to talk to him with the sole intent of being introduced to Ed- it was usually the elder of the two. With a grin that's only the slightest bit strained, he leaps forward with a new spring in his step as if about to show them off to her, before calling out to them with a wave thrown in. The lunch passes pleasantly enough, with them chatting about meaningless things, like who's wearing what, or which teacher did what wrong. It's fun; it really it, but it still seems rather hollow to Harry, like it's missing something, like he still doesn't belong.

It was though, just a bit disappointing that they didn't really see him as more than just a means to a goal; meeting the Elrics. During the week that he'd been there, nearly everyone had come trailing down to the old fig tree, presenting some old, broken (and more often then not, dusty) relic with the plea to 'fix it'. The numbers of people who possessed such items were astounding, though if he was to be honest, not quite so much as _how_ the brothers fixed it.

A hastily-drawn circle, though perfectly shaped, in chalk, crayon or charcoal that was then filled in with squares, triangles and yet more circles then (somehow), a flash of blue light that crackled around the circle light like blue lightning for mere seconds before receding to reveal the object, fixed.

It was, he was sure, _magic._ He was facinated by it himself, so it was hardly fair to blame everyone for wishing to see it in action too. Over the week, he found himself picking up titbits of information about alchemy- it's name was one of the first things he learned, from conversations going on around him during class, lunch and home-time.

It was a given fact that everyone hung around the Elrics, not only to get their objects repaired, but also to see Alchemy in action. He'd caught Saiph, peeking out from behind the tree, several times already over the past week, a fact of which he was somewhat proud as no-one else had caught her even once- which he didn't get really since her white hair should have been quite obvious against the darker background. Should have being the main point; somehow even he had a hard time spotting her as she blended in as she stood there motionless, just observing. Always observing, her eyes taking in every detail, as if recording the situation. But only ever regarding the Elrics, or him.

Everyone else seemed to slip below her attention, as if they were unimportant. He personally didn't like her attitude but, outside of Winry and Edward and Alphonse, she was probably the closest thing he had to a friend. And he rather felt that he needed every friend he could get right now- selfishness aside; but on the rare days that the Elrics were away and Winry with her own friends he found himself wandering the grounds, just aimlessly drifting- something far too similar to what he had used to do, back when he'd still been living with Dudley, for comfort.

It's the reason why, that lunch, instead of drifting like he usually does, he goes to sit with Saiph - who apparently sits along too, if the empty space around her is anything to go by. It's slightly awkward, if only they don't know the slightest thing about each other that differentiates them from everyone else, but manageable despite the silence.

That lunch, just five minutes in, Harry discovers that the reason Saiph doesn't talk much isn't because she's shy, but rather because she doesn't enjoy it; because she finds the conversations dull and unnecessary. As such, their list of conversation topics is rather short, exasperatingly so, and are quickly exhausted and soon, when they do speak, it's not so much trying to tailor their conversation to a topic so much as trying to _avoid_ topics. Like family.

It's a bit of a relief for Harry, both because he still has the remnants of a stutter that returns when he talks about Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and since Urey and Sara have asked him to try and deflect questions about his less-than-friendly relatives. He also hasn't the slightest idea what to say to express sincere consolations for the loss of her mother- not that she seemed to need it, but you could never tell with just appearances- never having them expressed to himself.

The weather is pleasant; light, fluffy white clouds drifting contentedly across an azure sky, but not particularly interesting. That topic of conversation lasts them only 30 seconds. Personal interests don't last that long either; Saiph likes to _read_ and _think_ in her spare time and Harry's done quite enough of that for one lifetime, thank-you-very-much. In the end, by the time the second-half bell's rung, they're on the last topic left to them; the crackly blue magic the Elrics weave, trapped, always trapped, in the chalk circles they draw.

Thankfully, it's a topic that easily lasts them the rest of the lunch period as they recount past fixing they've seen performed; antique clocks and ancient-looking heirlooms, snapped necklaces, ripped books, cracked rings, ink-stained textbooks, cracked cups and late-night homework tasks that had been jolted one too many times on the way to school.

But it's only seconds after the bell rung that Harry is surprised by what she says;

"It'd be so cool if they would teach us it."

That simple sentence, not surprising so much due to the content, but rather of what it implied, and the ideas, startles him because he'd always regarded the skill as _ magic_, something superior and untouchable, beyond the realm of human ability. But now that the thought's been opened to him, he knows perfectly what he wants to do.

And so, that day, after class has ended and as they're walking home, he asks it, right as they reach the old, worn stone bridge where Edward first invited him over for dinner.

"Hey, can you teach me Alchemy?"

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><p>Sigh~~ Been a while since I've watched FMA, I'm forgetting parts of how Ed actsspeaks ;P

And my new-found obsession (at the time of writing this anyway), with Code Geass is showing itself here; just look at how Ed's acting (concerning class)! And is it just me or is Winry partially assimilating Milly's role? Ed and Al's relationship is somewhat similar to Lelouch and Nunnally's no? And Winry/Milly, who loves to tease/torture Ed/Lelouch but leaves Al/Nunnally alone.

Don't you hate how, when you have something really important you _have_ to get done, and you can think of fifty-thousand other things that you would rather do to procrastinate, but once you've finished what you were putting off (yes, that aforementioned really important thing) you suddenly can't think of anything else _to do_? Yes- the majority of this chapter was written when I had a science assignment due the next week (with 3 marks allotted for 2000 words of information, which I feel to be majorly _un_-fair).

Oh, I've started using PageFour for writing and it is _heaven_. How the heck did I manage without it before? (oh yeah, with persistence, frustration, procrastination and... slowification?)

For Saiph (who's served about a quarter of her purpose in this chapter alone), think of her as Fate/Stay Night's Illyasviel von Einzbern only with an eye-colour of a cross between lime green and aqua.

Next chapter: Harry's learning alchemy, Draco's bored and the Malfoys are bewildered.


	12. Alchemy

Bah, I kept putting this off, partially because real life is busy, partially because it feels like I wanted to add something to this chapter, but could never remember precisely _what_ while writing. Also, Fanfiction's new changes are somewhat disorienting. I need a beta, seriously, _anything_ to motivate me to stop procrastinating and _write_.

Review-Responses newly relocated to the bottom.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Twelve - Alchemy<strong>_

_**One who accepts and understands the flow of power, and constructs using that knowledge... is called an alchemist.**_

_**~Izumi Curtis**_

Alchemy, as Harry was rapidly discovering, wasn't like some hobby that one could just shove aside, only to bring out to impress people or relieve boredom. It was, instead, a vast, figure-and-fact filled topic that proved more strenuous than just about anything else in life. But most of all, it was _addictive_; the rush of power flowing through your body, the finality in the sound of a clap, the thrill in seeing your creation take form before your eyes; the bending of nature to your own will, they were all things he understood, longed for even.

So it was quite unfortunate that he hadn't been able to experience any of those yet.

Instead, his vision was just starting to blur from the obscurely small text printed in an equally obscure 1879-paperback book. And really, he couldn't see how learning about the qualities of wheat, yeast and other components of bread had much to do with alchemy. But Ed had decreed that it was necessary and Al, as he often did, completely agreed with his brother. From that point on, he hadn't had much choice about the matter; there wasn't any other way that he could learn alchemy after all.

Any yet- sitting here, watching them sitting outside transmuting the earth (in such a location that he could see _everything_) was pure torture.

Today, they had forgone the white chalk, content to use trace lines in the soil with a stick, as they made various structures; miniature castes and collapsing ruins, bakery shops and large, sprawling homes the size of large doll houses. They looked as if they were figurines; details etched into the surface and shapes bent all over, moulded to the will of the maker. But the strands of earth were never terribly fine or thin, not like the real thing. It was always the slightest details off, a tower that appeared to thin to support a too-large roof, cracks running in illogical patterns, signs with letters that alternated between embossed and carved and flat roof instead of tiles.

Still, it looked fun, exciting, new, _fresh_.

Nothing like being cooped up in a stuffy room-office hybrid while being tormented by the sight of others doing what you so wanted to do; practising an art that you felt like you would never be able to learn. Harry dropped his gaze back to the book.

_It is important to note that grass and wheat are very similar; as plants their basic cell structure is the same, replete with chloroplasts and cell walls. Therefore bread, which is created from wheat and yeast, may also be synthesized from other plants with similar characteristics to wheat and, or yeast. Therefore, by extension grass may be converted into wheat._

_Wheat is an ingredient of bread, after undergoing chemical change under heat and with the presence of yeast. Yeast, a fungus oft found in consumables..._

Understandably, most of the words sailed over his six-year-old head. The words that he did recognise and understand, few and far in between, were tiny fragments of the puzzle of a foreign concept he hadn't ever faced before. In short, the book meant nothing to him.

_It is also important to note that, while Alchemy is capable of modifying atomic structures and forcing substances to undergo both chemical and physical changes of state, the _Law of Conservation of Matter_ must be upheld, alongside other rules which forbid a dramatic change of substance. That is, while elements may be interchanged freely, the starting matter and finishing compound must share similar characteristics. For instance, a metal may not be transmuted to a non-metal; alchemizations such as Sodium to Sulfur are impossible at this stage. Possibly advancements and breakthroughs may provide insight in these alchemizations and permit alchemists to transmute one element to another. As transmutations where metals such as _Lithium (Li)_ are converted to others such as _Barium (Ba)_ are possible, and have been successfully performed and recorded, it is generally assumed that the electronic configuration of atoms is most important to take into account when transmuting..._

Harry shut the book and gave a resigned glance back at the window where Ed and Al continued to create their fairy-tale structures in a pool of warm, golden sunlight. This was utterly ridiculous. He looked back at the book dubiously, tentatively opening it to a randomly selected page.

_Interestingly enough, in living matter, the alleles of the genomes of the starting matter directly affect the state of the resultant. Life _cannot_ be modified through alchemical means. Modifying life is direct intervention of an organism's living protoplasm, or the alterations of the Deoxyribonucleic Acid, otherwise known as DNA. This has been recognized by the Board of Alchemists, and taken into account with the third rule for all alchemists; _Don't make Humans. _Although this rule specifies humans, it may be extended to all forms of life present today, and further encompasses the modification of life and direct intervention in the genetic structure and coding of living organisms._

And apparently, if the randomly opened page was any indication, the language only got more complicated from there.

Harry wasn't regretting his decision to learn alchemy _per say,_ but he was wishing that he'd thought about it just a _little_ (lot) more. A few more hours more.

Possibly longer.

He flipped through the book again, this time to the very back where there was a conveniently located appendix and, upon a whim, looked for the _Deoxyribonucleic Acid_ that the book had mentioned before, mostly because it was quite possibly the longest word he had ever seen- even if he hadn't understood it at all.

The thing about searching through appendixes rather than a dictionary though, was that only a very limited list of words was defined. And that the definitions themselves were written in scientific terms and rather complicated. The definition for the deoxyribonucleic acid spanned three paragraphs in that obscenely small, splotchy black text, blurred at places and fainter at others, as if someone had written in pencil then erased it. Some parts of the text were crossed out altogether, the mysterious annotator apparently disagreeing with the author.

He didn't understand a word.

* * *

><p>The book hit the table with a loud thump.<p>

The slight wind filtering through the open window called again, almost tauntingly, as the sun's light was diminished by a drifting cloud, a large fluffy white mass that allowed for a moment of undisturbed cool.

For all their magic's and spells, wizards had never truly been able to control the environment around them; only alter details, but never the whole. Today, in the sweltering summer heat, Draco was feeling the evidence of that fact quite strongly.

Neither the large cup of iced lemonade (complete with mini parasol umbrella and lemon slice) that was being served by Dobby nor the large tub of vanilla and wildberry flavoured ice cream (strangely cool and unmelting, even under the unforgiving rays of the sun), could compensate for being cooped indoors on a day best suited for swimming (the Malfoys owned a summer mansion in the Bahamas, replete with private beach). Even the makeshift pool that his parents could transfigure from the large garden maze would have sufficed.

But instead he was studying while his father scoured the land (but mainly newspaper firms) for news of Harry Potter.

Harry had mysteriously disappeared some time ago, vanished from everyone without the slightest hint of how to contact him. It had thrown his parent's plans into disarray, and even Dumbledore seemed perturbed, despite his formerly ardent support of the Rockbells. The whole situation reeked of something gone unexpectedly, horribly wrong with no way to fix the issue in sight. In fact, the issue itself was not even apparent; no-one knew or had heard even the slightest news of where the Rockbells had vanished to, or if they were, in fact, still alive and free.

While no muggle police force would be able to subdue wizards, a kidnapping by Dark Wizards, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's few remaining (but still highly dangerous) followers, was a possibility.

Of course, none of these thoughts occurred to Draco, reclining comfortably on a padded chair. Instead thoughts about how very decidedly uncomfortable the weather was- and where had Harry gone; he'd had fun playing with a new-found friend that didn't approach due to the prestige imbued in his family name, filled his mind as he tiled his head backwards to view his room from an upside-down perspective.

* * *

><p>At that moment, Harry, whose head was in a similar position and likewise empty of thoughts concerning his mysterious disappearance from Wizarding Britain, though his thoughts were not nearly quite so trivial as those in Draco's head, was feeling equally frustrated. The sun was setting, a lovely hazy rose colour that bloomed through the sky. And he hadn't made any further progress through the book. It was a whole day, a half weekend, gone; wasted.<p>

On that stupid rag of stabled yellowing paper that was called a book.

And while he wasn't considering giving up on Alchemy, putting it off until they actually covered some of these topics in class seemed like a stroke of genius- a brilliant plan thought up in a moment of inspiration. And yet- he paused, halfway through throwing the book gently down, or as gently as one could throw a book that they detested, remembering his words to Saiph.

(("_I'll definitely learn Alchemy from them!" Harry boasted, proud because it was the first thing that he'd ever really had to boast about, never mind that it wasn't about a belonging, because this was a that no-one else, for all that the Elric brothers were idolised, had taken or been offered. It was uniquely his alone; not even Winry had deigned to study the art that the two were so keen on.))_

Still, even memories of the most unshakeable resolve and determination can only take one so far, by the time Edward- Harry still called him that, unused to nicknames and the familiarity and closeness they symbolised, came in to check up on him, Alphonse apparently gone to help their mother with preparing dinner, Harry had counted thrice that he had felt a nearly overbearing urge to tear the book up into tiny fragments, then burn those fragments until they were invisible little pieces of ash, scattered irrevocably forever. And then maybe transmute those pieces back into a book so that no-one would ever know.

Pale hands, lightly calloused but somehow still tender, took the book from his grasp. Edward's face, when he looked up, was mischievous, almost devilish in what was still somehow a friendly way.

"Only five pages in?"

Okay, so that really _was_ a tad pathetic. It had, after all, probably been more than_ five hours_. Granted, a large portion of that time had been spent napping or devising new ways in which to destroy the book (ways that'd he'd never be able to carry out), but he admittedly had more or less given up after the first hour or so.

"It's stated complicatedly, but the idea's really simple." The old boy spoke, dragging a chair across well-worn wood floorboards, until it was beside Harry's. "Like this," he pointed at the paragraphs discussing and pointing out the similarities between the components of bread and other grasses, "basically says that you don't need to turn grass into wheat in order to make bread. So, it's like you can transmute things into other similar things, only that in this case you can skip a step by not turning it into wheat."

He took the book, flipping through casually with the air of one experienced. "There's more about that here," he opened to a page nearly halfway through, then flipped back to five pages in; the position where Harry had read up to. "This is like the Law of Conservation of Matter, you can't turn short wheat into tall wheat."*

It was five hours of study compacted into less than a minute. Which really, essentially, meant that he'd wasted his whole day when he could've simply asked Edward.

The older boy grinned at him mischievously, "Did you have fun reading at least?"

* * *

><p>*Note: I'm not sure if it was called the 'Law of Conservation of Matter' in FMA, it's the conservation of <em>mass<em> in real life, but might not be in the anime-verse. ( I _swear_ I've heard 'Conservation of Matter' _somewhere_)

Next Chapter: How are the Dursley's getting along without their resident serving boy? With dishes piling up, coffee unmade and several not-so-well disguised death-threats from concerned (and highly agitated) wizards of course!

A/N: This is ridiculous; I spent _hours_ studying science and couldn't spell DNA (Deoxyribonucleic Acid) after it, then I spend about _seconds_ typing up 'What does DNA stand for' in Google, type it into this fanfic and suddenly I know how to spell it? Life makes no sense sometimes- but I think I'll just write another fanfic for my Yearly Exam study.

Also, having your web-browser's spellcheck language being set to American English, while your word-processors is set to Australian-English is really annoying -.-

**Jostanos** - Thank you, as always for reviewing (reviews are inspirational and motivation :D)

**Yoruko Rhapsodos** - Yes, Dumbledore's plan goes terribly, terribly awry (but then, it wouldn't be a proper story if things _all_ went to plan) Since they're just kids now, there's nothing but friendship right now. Later it moves on into slight Winry-Ed over friendship and... automail. Also, Harry has a slight-not-really-crush-but-still-want-to-be-close-relationship with Winry, she _is_ the first proper 'friend' he has after all. (Although her befriendment of him was mostly motivated by her parent's concerns). To Harry, Saiph is special because she chooses to spend her time with him, listening and talking to him when she could clearly be elsewhere, though he doesn't like her in that way. Kids are so cute :) [Also, to give any other character would be kinda spoiler-ish]

**KohakuTheOtaku **(it rhymes!.. I think, I mean the 'aku' sound.. at least..) - Yes, I have a friend who's obsessed with Doctor Who (really David Tenant, but he was the Doctor for a while). I think it kinda shows (that and Harry's naivete) in that chapter.

Bah, I need to get LJ. Also, currently writing a Code Geass ficlet with a super-long (for me) prologue. I love the essence of Code Geass; double lives, the political scheming, mecha (Guren SEITEN Eight Elements! :D), anti-hero, best-friends-turned-enemy, emotional turmoil (especially with the best friends), rebellion-in-action. Seriously, once you get past the layer of fanservice, it's awesome. Oh, oh! And the 'Empire' Trope! Britannia is so cruel and ruthless, its awesome in a way. Amazing single-mindedness there.


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